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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27861150">I guess you could say (we’re all a bit mad anyway)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_an_Awkward_Person/pseuds/Just_an_Awkward_Person'>Just_an_Awkward_Person</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Pull the fire alarm (I never meant any harm) [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Assassination Classroom, Fran Bow (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>...or both at the same time, Akabane Karma Needs a Hug, Akabane Karma is a Good Friend, Akabane Karma is a Little Shit, Akabane Karma-centric, Concerned Dr. Marcel Deern, Concerned Irina Jelavic, Concerned Karasuma Tadaomi, Concerned Korosensei, Multi, Protective Akabane Karma, Protective Shiota Nagisa, Remor is a Bastard, Sassy Shiota Nagisa, Shiota Hiromi's Bad Parenting, Shiota Nagisa Needs a Hug, Soft Akabane Karma, cause this is a mess, except, except when he gets paranoid, he was worried from the very start, or takes advice from the twins, pretty much everyone once they get past being freaked out are concerned about the demon child, tags get uptaded, what do you mean that's not a tag???</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:08:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>35,154</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27861150</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_an_Awkward_Person/pseuds/Just_an_Awkward_Person</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He grins and smirks and twists his knives with a laugh. And even if Itward is humming disapprovingly, Remor is cackling in his ear. Palontras, as usual, remains silent and neutral to the whole affair. A healer to the core, assassination must be something he wants nothing to do with, yet he’s measuring it against extinction. Karma has always liked him best for those nuanced thoughts.</p><p>  <em>We’re off to kill the teacher, the wonderful teacher of 3-E…</em><br/><br/>In which Karma grew up in the house of madness, learnt manners from the most annoying pair of murderous twins, may or may not have killed his own parents (he’s still not too sure about that one) and likes to use the fine line between genius and insanity as a skipping rope when drugged. All in all, a mission to kill his yellow with a dash of extermination tendencies octopus  of a teacher doesn’t seem too weird.</p><p>  <strong>Koro-sensei actually being a teacher though, now that, that is weird.</strong></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akabane Karma &amp; Class 3-E, Akabane Karma &amp; Dr. Marcel Deern, Akabane Karma &amp; Irina Jelavić, Akabane Karma &amp; Itward, Akabane Karma &amp; Karasuma Tadaomi, Akabane Karma &amp; Korosensei, Akabane Karma &amp; Oswald Asylum Kids, Akabane Karma &amp; Palontras, Akabane Karma &amp; Remor, Akabane Karma/Shiota Nagisa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Pull the fire alarm (I never meant any harm) [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2114265</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>139</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Out the Mirror (Down the Rabbit Hole)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Karma tells two stories:</p><p>One is for a deal.</p><p>The other one is for nostalgia.</p><p>Both have abrupt endings, because life rarely goes the way we want it to.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Would you tell us a story?”</p><p> </p><p>One dress, yet two white collars. One pair of arms, yet two cups of tea. One torso, yet two different ribbons sitting atop two heads. Pink and blue. Mole or no mole. One body, two people.</p><p> </p><p>Yet their words are the same.</p><p> </p><p>“Would you tell us a story, please?”</p><p> </p><p>A demand disguised as a question. An eyebrow raises at that. Why hide it? Unless… they want it free of charge? Hilarious. As if he’d fall for such cheap tricks. Bold of them to try manipulation.</p><p> </p><p>A smile. The sound of a teacup hitting white ceramic. Without spilling. The red would clash hideously against the pink tablecloth and the offense isn’t great enough to deserve that. Plus, they’re clean-freaks and hate messy eaters. They’d end the tea party then and there.</p><p> </p><p>Nobody wants that. Even if the food (and company) is a bit rotten, the desserts are always a delight.</p><p> </p><p>“Aren’t I the one celebrating?” Twin mouths set into grim lines. Figures “What will you give me?”</p><p> </p><p>Their fingers tap tap tap against the table. Eyes searching the girly and old-fashioned room for something that could be of interest. They pass the photos, the carpet, the logs in the fire and the hands resting atop. The head of the deer mounted on the wall, the desserts already served, the chandelier hanging above them all, nothing seems to be worth the story they want in exchange for.</p><p> </p><p>“What do you want?” They sigh in frustration and finally give up.</p><p> </p><p>“One pot of your valerians, four pots of your lavenders.” Their turn to raise their eyebrows. Their mouths open wide into smiles at the same time. Derision drips from them as crimson drips into the white plate in the middle of their table. Their gazes are putrid enough to rival the rancid smell.</p><p> </p><p>“The silly little child can’t sleep at night?” They sneer “Need mommy and daddy to give you a good night kiss?”</p><p> </p><p>“Wow.” a smooth chuckle. No need to call them hypocrites, deep down they must know “That’s low. Even for your standards.”</p><p> </p><p>A narrowed gaze. His smile turns sharp. If they wanna play, they should accept the price.</p><p> </p><p>“Just for that I’ll add a pot of jasmine.”</p><p> </p><p>They cluck their tongues but let it go. “Normal or with charm?”</p><p> </p><p>“Would I ask if I wanted normal ones?”</p><p> </p><p>“Enough with your sass.” The crinkle their noses and waves their hands dismissively, a gesture too reminiscent of the one who raised them “We want our story. Will you tell it?”</p><p> </p><p> Well, all in all a good deal. The twins are always useful in this regard. A small part of his chest warms up at their eagerness. Child-like and almost innocent, in a way they never can be for any other matter. Can’t blame them for that.</p><p> </p><p>“Fine. Let me tell you about Antonio the Greatest.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>If he were to tell the story of his life, the appropriate thing would be to start from the beginning. Except, he does not remember. A sort of blissful blankness covers the first 6 years of his life in a place he cares not to remember surrounded by people he cares not to picture in his head.</p><p> </p><p>(Perhaps it’s less that he <em>can’t </em>and more that he <em>doesn’t wish to</em>.)</p><p> </p><p>If he were to tell the story of his life, the appropriate thing would be to start from the beginning. Except that it’s non-existent and this is his story, so it’d start more like this:</p><p> </p><p>He’s six and Mom’s hug is warm. They blow blow blow on the candles and he laughs because Dad makes funny faces when he blows. He tells him as much and his Dad smiles.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh really?” his hair is being ruffled and he pouts because he spent a while taming it alongside Mom and now Dad went and ruined all their efforts “I guess I do champ, let me tell you-”</p><p> </p><p>The phone rings in the corner of the room and Dad looks at Mom while raising an eyebrow. Mom raises one back and bounces him on her lap while looking at Dad. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. His black hair already starting to show some gray hairs.</p><p> </p><p>“Guess I’ll tell you about it another time kiddo.” He smiles, giving another hair ruffle before turning around to go take the phone.</p><p> </p><p>Mom kisses his cheek and he turns away to hide the fact he is red as a tomato. His reactions to this normal shows of affection are too embarrassing.</p><p> </p><p>(There’s this fleeting sentiment of novelty and craving every time they do something of the sort. Which is stupid, because both Mom and Dad are extremely touchy so how can it be new? Except he can’t ignore the tinge of desperation in their hugs and eyes. The confusion makes him restless.)</p><p> </p><p>Mom hums and asks him how school has been. He averts her eyes. School isn’t going well, AND SHE KNOWS IT. So why is she asking?</p><p> </p><p>Betrayal, absolute utter betrayal.</p><p> </p><p>He glares, she laughs, and he puffs his cheeks because it’s really not funny. Mom continues laughing. Fine, ignoring her it is. One minute trickles by, then two, then three…</p><p> </p><p>“The other kids are stupid.” he finally mumbles, always easily disturbed by extensive periods of silence and stillness when surrounded by other people.</p><p> </p><p>“Why are they stupid love?”</p><p> </p><p>“They say I’m retarded cause I stutter speaking Japanese. Plus, sometimes I’ll forget when I’m supposed to use kanji or hiragana or katakana when writing.” He buries his face in Mom’s flower blouse, taking deep breaths of her calming, floral scent and frowning as a particular memory comes to mind “My teacher says I speak like a baby and that she can’t believe I passed kindergarten.”</p><p> </p><p>That one had hurt, just a bit. He’d explained that at home they spoke English because it was his mother’s tongue, but the teacher had replied that living in Japan all his life should have given him enough experience in the language anyway. He hadn’t been able to find a reply to that.</p><p> </p><p>He guessed that the statement held some truth. How was he perfectly fluent in English, a language he only spoke at home and with his parents, while he was still struggling his way through Japanese, a language he had been surrounded by since birth? He must really be as stupid as the other kids said.</p><p> </p><p>“What?!” he flinches (he hates sudden loud noises and needles and white walls and large periods of silence where no one moves) and she apologizes. Mom rocks him for a bit while peppering him in delicate kisses and she lowers her voice.</p><p> </p><p>“Love, why didn’t you tell me?”</p><p> </p><p>“S not important.” Her fingers card through his hair and it’s soothing, he snuggles closer to her and closes his eyes. His teacher doesn’t like him either way, what does it matter what she says?</p><p> </p><p>Dad comes back from the phone call with a pale face and a twitchy smile.</p><p> </p><p>“Josie.” he gestures, and Mom is standing up and giving him to Dad and he’s confused but not sad because Dad is also warm and now, he can finish telling him about earlier.</p><p> </p><p>He hits with his tiny fists until Dad pays attention to him and then he asks for the story.</p><p> </p><p>Dad’s voice is strong and bewitching as he retells an event of his childhood in the countryside, in a mansion three times the size of their house, surrounded by well-meaning bodyguards he’d still evaded every chance he got.</p><p> </p><p>His hands tremble and his eyes are scared. As a six-year-old child, that’s what he remembers most.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>Once upon a time, on a not so far away land, there lived a boy.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>                                                                                                                             Why does it have to be a boy?</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Because, now hush. This boy had lived for a long time inside a house where people ate your thoughts and guards asked you for kisses. One day, he got fed up with it all and ran away.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>                                                                                                                                                                   How?</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Not important right now. If you’re good perhaps I’ll tell you another day. The important detail is that the boy ran away. The house was hidden deep inside a forest, so the boy ventured inside it and ran. He ran for hours and hours until his chest started hurting and breathing was like burning.</em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Elizabeth Dagenhart. Sister as Mom calls her.</p><p> </p><p>“Look how handsome you are!” she ruffles his hair and her eyes twinkle with some unknown emotion he thinks may be joy “He’ll be a heartbreaker when he’s older Josie, just wait and see. Those looks are going to cause you trouble.”</p><p> </p><p>Mom smiles, even if her smile is a bit strained and every once in a while, she’ll grip her arms hard enough to leave bruises. That’s worrisome, he hopes she isn’t feeling nauseous. She once said to him it’s normal to feel a bit sick the first days on a new country. Especially if you ate something. He can see the point; British food is very different from Japanese.</p><p> </p><p>(And yet he finds it somewhat familiar.)</p><p> </p><p>Dad has been a bit green ever since they arrived and had to stay at the hotel due to a case of food poisoning. Dad had been perplexed, saying he’d developed quite the resistant stomach back when he and Mom toured the world. He isn’t sure he believes him, seeing how he was the only one who had a bad reaction to the food.</p><p> </p><p>It’s actually the reason he isn’t here to meet Elizabeth. Or reunite, in Mom’s particular case.</p><p> </p><p>“Your hair is so fluffy!” Elizabeth coos “You must take very good care of it!”</p><p> </p><p>Elizabeth is loud. Louder than Dad. He isn’t yet sure if he likes that. Mom gives him a look and he mumbles out a thanks for the compliment anyway.</p><p> </p><p>They get back to their own talk and Mom seems to relax a lot now that Elizabeth’s interest has shifted away from him. It’s very boring though. He didn’t bring any toys or books, so he’s left just staring at the various plants that decorate the woman’s house. Will Mom let him stand up and explore? He’ll implode from boredom otherwise.</p><p> </p><p>His aunt seems to notice though, because she pauses and asks if they can excuse her for a second before going out the room. He can hear her footsteps going up the stairs. The tap tap tap of her shoes above them.</p><p> </p><p>The room they’re in is the living room, and it is cozy enough, he guesses. The couches are a light blue with golden designs. There are flowers all over the place: In the middle of the table, hanging from the ceiling, in pots sitting on the floor. There aren’t many photos. It smells floral and fresh. It’s different, greener, and bluer where his house is red and golden. He says this out loud and Mom says those are the colors associated with the Akabane family, and it is tradition to use them. He keeps quiet and doesn’t tell her that he’d much prefer the color blue for his room.</p><p> </p><p>He hears the steps approaching the living room again and he tenses up. Uncomfortable for some unknown reason. Elizabeth enters the room, hands hidden behind her back and blue eyes covered by her red locks. He swallows, hard.</p><p> </p><p>She stops in front of him. Stands still. They all wait in silence. He bites his lip and fidgets.</p><p> </p><p>There’s tension in the air and he can’t stop moving because she’s staring and it’s uncomfortable and Mom’s on the other couch so he can’t reach out to hold her hand without being obvious and Elizabeth won’t stop staring and for some reason he really hates getting stared at like that, like he’s an insect on a table and a doctor wants to examine his brain and why does he always think of things like that in these moments and-</p><p> </p><p>Elizabeth laughs.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry kid, I’m not hiding a knife.” She grins at him and presents the object “Here, consider this a nice-to-meet-you gift!”</p><p> </p><p>It’s a rabbit plushie. A golden rabbit plushie. It’s soft and warm and very cute and he smothers his face against it because, as stated before it’s very soft. He stares at it in wonder and <strike>recognition</strike> before running his hands through <strike>familiar</strike> golden fabric.</p><p> </p><p>“You can have it, I’m a bit too old for it now. It reminded me of your eyes.” She says, sitting side by side in the couch “They’re really pretty, y’know?”</p><p> </p><p>He hum to avoid answering the question. He’s always found them unnatural. Neither his Dad, whose eyes are a stunning forest green, or his Mom (and now, apparently, his aunt) whose eyes reflect the ocean, have similar eyes. He wonders where they came from.</p><p> </p><p>No one has ever told him his eyes are pretty. Not Mom, not Dad, and the teachers always speak about his red hair when complimenting his good looks. The other kids point at his eyes and call them demon-like. Staring at himself in the mirror, he’s always privately agreed.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t you find them,” he can’t say scary because Mom is in the room and if she hears that she’ll get sad “…strange?”</p><p> </p><p>His aunt hums and taps her chin.</p><p> </p><p>“Perhaps a bit,” she admits, and he tries to hide his disappointment “but not in a bad way. They’re -do you know the word exotic? Yes? - well they’re exotic. They fit well with your hair.”</p><p> </p><p>He sniffs. Just a bit. It’s the dust, that’s also why his eyes are burning a little.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I’m sorry! Did I say something? Shit!” she swears, then her eyes widen as if she just realized you’re not supposed to swear in front of kids “Forget that last word!”</p><p> </p><p>He’s opening his mouth to repeat it, eager to try out this new word that sounds funny and <em>forbidden</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t!” she covers his mouth with both her hands “Josie I’m so sorry! I swear I didn’t mean to, but you know how I am! Mom used to scold me all the time for ‘swearing like a sailor’ and I’ve calmed down from that, but it slips out at times and-”</p><p> </p><p>There’s a wet chuckle and they both turn to see his Mom smiling fondly with teary eyes. Elizabeth carefully removes her hands from his mouth as they watch this new development in equal amounts of concern and fascination.</p><p> </p><p>“Mom?”</p><p> </p><p>“Josie?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, it’s nothing.” She dismisses with a hand-wave “Just, it’s good to see you again Lizzie.”</p><p> </p><p>Elizabeth’s face softens, and her words come out more delicate and genuine than they have all evening with her exaggerated energy. He guesses that was her own way of hiding her own nervousness.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s good to see you too Josie. I missed you.”</p><p> </p><p>By the end of the visit they’re all crying messes hugging each other and Elizabeth gets promoted in his mind to Aunt Lizzie. He has no idea <em>why </em>he’s crying, as he’s not reuniting with anyone, but the tears still flow. Ah whatever, he guesses it’s the general mood of the room.</p><p> </p><p>He wonders why he never met his mother’s twin before.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>But you see, this boy was on a mission. Before living in the house of the thought-stealers, he had had a normal family and lived a normal life. Back then, he’d had a black cat with yellow eyes that he loved and cherished very much. </em>
  <em>Now free of the house, the boy was determined to find the cat, so he roamed the forest and asked every being inside if they’d seen the creature. After much searching, he found Antonio.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Antonio was a very big ant with a very long beard. He had a walking stick to help him stand, his only friend was the Beetlepig, and they both loved blueberries very much. He was also, the last of his kind.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The boy asked Antonio if he had seen his black cat with yellow eyes by any chance. To which Antonio replied: I’m sorry boy, it happens to be the cat was eaten. Chewed and swallowed! The blueberry time passed, and we ate them all. I gave it to my Beetlepig.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The boy broke down crying, for the black cat had been his only friend and hope, and now there was nothing to do but fall into despair.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     Crybaby.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Hush. Antonio, unlike you, felt his heart bleed for the lonely boy and told him the digestion process was slow. Perhaps the cat was still alive inside the Beetlepig?</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The boy wiped his tears and felt his heart regain strength at this silver of hope. He asked Antonio how to make the Beetlepig vomit his cat. Antonio laughed at his question and said:</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>‘Vomit? You need to kill him boy!’</em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>He’s seven years old. He’s got a loving Mom, a funny Dad, and an awesome aunt that comes visit every month and whom he visits on school breaks.</p><p> </p><p>He’s also got no friends.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t tell Mom or Dad of course; they’ll get sad and angry at the other kids and he doesn’t wanna make a big fuzz about it. They don’t like him, and day by day, he likes them less too. He’s starting to feel a kind of <em>distaste</em> (he’d read the word somewhere and liked it) towards the other kids. And something blacker than anger.</p><p> </p><p>It scares him a bit, so he tells his aunt.</p><p> </p><p>“Hmm, well yeah, school kinda sucks.” He’s sitting in her lap and they’re both watching the sunset while laying comfortably in the hammock outside her house “Don’t tell your mother I said that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course not.” He rolls his eyes “You don’t tell her about the other kids either.”</p><p> </p><p>“Seems like a pretty sweet deal to me.” She rests her head and closes her eyes, that familiar devilish grin engraved on her face “Don’t worry too much kid, you’ll find your niche eventually.”</p><p> </p><p>He hums in place of an answer.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, hey, hey,” His aunt cracks an eye open and ruffles his hair with force, to which he pouts in response “Stop with the long face, trust me, someone will want to be your friend. And until then…”</p><p> </p><p>Her eyes twinkle and she gives him an enigmatic smile.</p><p> </p><p>“Why don’t you check inside the house?”</p><p> </p><p>His eyes widen and he grins (he’s learning a lot of mannerisms, and swear words, from her) before climbing down the hammock and rushing past her door. There is a basket lying innocently on the middle of the living room.</p><p> </p><p>It meows.</p><p> </p><p>If he smiles any wider, he’ll split his face. Of that he is sure.</p><p> </p><p>He opens the basket and finds a cat as black as the deepest night with big, wide yellow eyes. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that he takes less than a second to get him out the basket and hold him close to his chest.</p><p> </p><p>His aunt snorts from the door and he turns around with a disbelieving face.</p><p> </p><p>“Can I have it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Him.” She corrects, finger raised. She closes one eye and cracks another grin “And yeah, think of it as an early birthday present from the most awesome <em>aunt</em> in the world.”</p><p> </p><p>“Did you ask my Mom for permission?”</p><p> </p><p>“Hush!” She frown and puts a hand on her hips “When do we ask for permission?”</p><p> </p><p>“Never!” He cheers, raising a fist to the air.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve trained you well my nephew. You’ll be a wonderful harbinger of chaos.”</p><p> </p><p>He laughs and laughs and laughs and hold the kitty close to him and hugs him.</p><p> </p><p>He names him Mr. Midnight.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>The boy was shocked.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>‘How can you ask me to kill your only friend!’ he exclaimed.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>‘Even if he is my best and only friend, I am hungry, and I need the meat that’s attached to his bones.’</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The boy shook his head, for he could not imagine taking the choice of loneliness over death. Antonio insisted, and reminded him that the time to save his cat from the Beetlepig’s stomach was running out. So the boy steeled his nerves and went in search of a tool that could kill.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>He found an axe stuck on a tree. The boy returned to Antonio and, wielding the weapon, sliced the Beetlepig in half. The boy cried again, for he had ended a life and his hands would now forever be stained with the red that dripped from them. He cried even further when, upon moving the corpse and checking its intestines, he found inside not to be his cat, but a rat.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The rat, grateful upon being freed, told him a cat had been chasing after it and, that if the boy wished it so, the animal could lead it to where he had last seen the feline. The boy wiped his tears and steeled his heart, and he told the rat to lead him.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Antonio The Greatest, now Antonio The Lonely, thanked the boy for his services and started feasting on his friend’s cold body. But even as he did so, the tears flowed down his face and he cried loudly.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>As the boy walked away, Antonio’s crying would follow him until he left the forest.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The End.</em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It’s Monday night.</p><p> </p><p> He’s playing with Mr. Midnight and cooing over the way he wriggles his tail as he tries to catch the thread of yarn. At first Mom had frowned and Dad had glared at Aunt Lizzie (Dad never really warmed up to his aunt) but after she’d taken them both aside and said something to them, they got over it and started treating Mr. Midnight as part of the family.</p><p> </p><p>He loves Mr. Midnight. He loves Aunt Lizzie. He loves his parents. He likes this feeling of belonging in his chest. It’s warm.</p><p> </p><p>Thunder strikes.</p><p> </p><p>A shiver runs down his spine and he hugs his cat close. Thunder isn’t unusual but this time it feels different somehow. He feels observed. He hates feeling observed. But he’s alone in his room, so where?</p><p> </p><p>Thunder strikes again, and he lets out a strangled scream.</p><p> </p><p>There in his window. A shadow, except it’s face is a skull and red drips down his eyes, and he has never seen anything smile in such a way before. The air is freezing, the creature comes closer…</p><p> </p><p>R̷̢͍̱͈̖̫̺̋̌͐̽̂͗̾̅̿é̵̺̍͆͋͂̂̚ͅm̶̡̨̌͆̐̓̚o̸͇̺̯̰̪͎̘̒̆̌̌͊̕r̵̡̜͇̩̭̔̈̏̌́̎̈͌͑</p><p> </p><p>A scream.</p><p> </p><p>Mom?</p><p> </p><p>He rushes to his bedroom door, only to remember the creature and look back. It’s gone. He shivers again. He shushes Mr. Midnight’s meows and locks him inside his bedroom.</p><p> </p><p>He’s got a bad feeling about the scream.</p><p> </p><p>The house is dark, as if the electricity had gone out. Except not, because there’s a single, bright light shining from his parent’s room. He recalls the scream and gulps.</p><p> </p><p>It’s probably nothing. It’s silent now after all. Completely silent. Surely if something had happened there’d be more noise? He takes a step backwards.</p><p> </p><p>The creature’s horrible face flashes in his mind.</p><p> </p><p>No, he’s got to make sure. And he’s scared to enter his room again. Maybe Mom will let him sleep in their bed if he tells her? It’ll hurt his pride but right now he doesn’t care. He’s freezing and it feels like it’ll seep into his very soul. He just wants Dad to ruffle his hair and Mom to give him a warm hug.</p><p> </p><p>Just that. And everything will be fine. He’ll be brave again after it. He just needs to see them once and then he can go back to his room.</p><p> </p><p>He walks down the hallway and stops at their semi-open door. He gets closer…</p><p> </p><p>…and closer</p><p> </p><p>                …and closer</p><p>                                      …and closer</p><p>                                                                                                                                         He pushes the door and looks.</p><p> </p><p>H̶͖͛e̸̫̅ ̵̯̕S̵͌͜ ̷̦͝C̷̘͌ ̷͉̈R̵͖̀ ̷͎E̶̳͊ ̸̟̓A̴͚͂ ̶͕̈M̷̤̆ ̴̳͌S̷̢</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“You’re a terrible storyteller.” They frown and cross their arms.</p><p> </p><p>A shrug. Not his problem.</p><p> </p><p>“And here I thought you’d like the story.” A grin and a sip. A grimace, the taste is terrible “It’s right up your alley of morbid.”</p><p> </p><p>“The problem is not with the story.” They shake their heads and narrow their eyes “It’s in how you tell it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” a cat-like smile, eyes closed “what do you mean?”</p><p> </p><p>“Antonio was right. The weakest must die so the strongest can survive.” They recite their personal philosophy as a universal law. To them, it probably is “The boy’s spirit was strengthened by the sacrificing of the Beetlepig. The tale’s a celebration, not a tragedy.”</p><p> </p><p>They give a pointed look. Daring to contradict them.</p><p> </p><p>A hum, followed by another sip, another grimace. Blood never tastes any better, even if served in a teacup and sweetened by sugar. They drink this stuff every day. Poor girls. Explains their bad temper.</p><p> </p><p>“I suppose you’re right.” A sigh and a poke at the meat in the middle. Rotten. When will desserts be served? Their apple pie always tastes divine. Know better than to ask what it’s made of, though.</p><p> </p><p>“Of course we are Karma. We’re older than you.” They cross their arms again and sniff in disdain “Now eat the food, don’t think we haven’t noticed.”</p><p> </p><p>He grumbles and takes a bite of the dripping, bloodied rat in the middle. Worst birthday ever.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>...yeah. I have no idea either. This is what happens when you rewatch Assasination Classroom and Fran Bow at the same time. Inspired by Karma's gruesome everything (but especially his imagination and flashback sequence, hellooooooo skulls and darkness) and the fact I need more Karma-centric fanfiction. If anyone feels inspired or intrigued by the concept feel free to use it. I'm just doing this bc I'm pretty sure no one else's monkey brain is gonna come up with it. Just send me the link so I can enjoy the content too!</p><p>On other news: KARMA IS DAMN DIFFICULT TO WRITE, LIKE, HE'S A SADIC BUT HE DOESN'T JUST GO AROUND HURTING PEOPLE JUST BECAUSE (as far as we've seen, he talks a lot but actually just rarely truly hurts people) HE'S COCKY AND LOOKS DOWN ON PEOPLE BUT AT THE SAME TIME, NOT??? (like, c'mon, Itona said he was weaker and he had no freakout, and just jokingly mocks his classmates instead of actually meaning it? me no get it) SO LET'S HOPE I GET A GRASP ON HIM. GOOD NIGHT PEOPLE THIS IS FIRST FANFIC SO WE'RE ALL A BIT LOST.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. First Love (Scars pt. 1)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Karma meets a little snake called Nagisa.<br/>Why does the alluring snake pretend to be harmless?</p><p>Nagisa meets fire and he goes by the name of Karma.<br/>Why is the mysterious fire keeping him company?</p><p>Intrigue and fear. Admiration and envy.</p><p>Sakura petals bloom and wither. (Karma wonders if tragedy runs in his blood).</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first time Karma enters a fight, he loses.</p><p> </p><p>He limps back home with a black eye and twisted ankle, red in the face as he wipes his eyes furiously. He’s burning from the hurt and anger and humiliation. Mom cries when she sees him and that hurts more than all the bruises and cuts and words that had been thrown at him. She disinfects his injuries, kisses them, and invites him to help her with making the soup. She doesn’t ask who started it and he’s grateful for that. Mom probably knows already.</p><p> </p><p>The second time Karma enters a fight, he loses again.</p><p> </p><p>This time when he limps home, Mom doesn’t cry. Her eyes burn but her mouth is set into a thin line as she disinfects his injuries and bandages them again. Her fingers are quick as they apply cream to his bruises and alcohol to his cuts. They finish wrapping him up and she invites him again to help her with making the food and setting the table.</p><p> </p><p>“Why?” she says, stirring the stewpot, voice bland as if they were discussing the weather.</p><p> </p><p>“They were punching a kid for his glasses.” The same ones that pointed at his eyes and called him demon, the same ones that heard him stutter and called him retard “It made me angry.”</p><p> </p><p>He could prettify his behavior with things such as justice and heroism. He doesn’t.</p><p> </p><p>“Did you win?” Mom turns and looks him in the eyes, forbidding him from lying.</p><p> </p><p>He shakes his head and clenches his hands into fists. They were bigger, and stronger, and they brought in some older kids. She takes his chin with gentle hands and rises it until he meets her gaze.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t start fights you have no chance of winning Karma.” And that’s that.</p><p> </p><p>The next day she teaches him how to throw a punch. The day after that how to dodge. He doesn’t get into fights and he arrives at home early and he learns from her how to make almost anything into a weapon, including his own body. She holds him close as she drills into his head that once a fight has started; he better win it. No matter what kind of battle it is. Dirty tricks, intimidation, blackmail, it all counts. Honor is a concept invented by fools that didn’t care enough about their own armies.</p><p> </p><p>He never questions where she learned any of it. He never asks why she’s teaching him.</p><p> </p><p>The third time Karma starts a fight, he wins.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>He’s taking a stroll across campus when he first sees it. It doesn’t surprise him, per se, but it does slightly disappoint him.</p><p> </p><p>Huh, so even a school as fancy as Kunugigaoka has the alleyway bullies? Figures. Or perhaps they’re a part of the twisted system? Motivation to go up, or inevitable spectacle? He’s only been here two months and he can tell this school isn’t normal. This coming from someone who finished elementary on a computer and graduated from an online academy, so he has the right to judge.</p><p> </p><p>Anyway, what was he on about? Oh, right. Bullies.</p><p> </p><p>Nothing better to get the adrenaline in his system flowing like a good old fight. His lips stretch into a familiar grin (he tries not to focus too much on who he’s acting like) and he cracks his knuckles as he comes to stand right in front of the guys. The idiots haven’t even noticed him. Amateurs.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Well, well, well, isn’t this interesting? Tapping into your darker side today Karma Dagenhart?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>A roll of eyes. So Remor decided to show up and be a bastard. What else is new? The freaking goat didn’t even have the courage to be upfront and switch them up to Ultrarreality or Apollo. Just whispering stupid nonsense in his ear. He swears if he starts seeing corpses, he’s going to lose his shit.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Bug off, you horn-lover freak.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>You didn’t even deny my accusation.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>What for? If it’s true, it’s true. He isn’t about to give them flowers and pat their heads, that’s for sure. He doesn’t feel particularly guilty about it, either. The idiots had it coming, kicking someone when they’re down just because it’s easy. Besides, he’s only going to give them a beat down that’ll have them limping home. First time warning. Not even the hospital. It’s on a whole other level from setting fire to a building or murdering someone, like Remor implies when referring to his darker side. The goat is just trying to goad him into an unstable state, as usual.</p><p> </p><p>(Karma ignores the fact he’s done both. He locks it inside a tiny box and buries it deep in his soul, along with all the other things he isn’t dealing with now, or ever, if he’s being honest.)</p><p> </p><p>He decides to ignore the sooty-colored asshole and instead focus on what matters. Punching the living daylights out of the two second-year students who are right in front of him. Too busy kicking a little kid(?) with long hair to notice him sneaking up on them. Shame on them, he expected elite scum from an elite school. How disappointing.</p><p> </p><p>One punch to the back of one’s head, one strong kick to the back of the other’s knee, and both come falling down like a London bridge. He even hums the tune as he grabs them by the head and smashes their faces into the concrete. <em>My fair lady</em>… ah, the crack of a nose and the smell of blood.</p><p> </p><p>“If I were you,” he whispers into their ears, leaning down and patting their heads “I’d run.”</p><p> </p><p>They do that. Such obedient puppies. He won’t upload the pictures he took of them just for that.</p><p> </p><p>He laughs and spins on his axis. What a refreshing afternoon. Now he’s in a better mood to head back to the house and do the homework. Whatever reprimand or punishment they give him tomorrow will be well worth this spark of excitement. I’m alive and it’s not bitter.</p><p> </p><p>Today is a good day.</p><p> </p><p>“Um, thanks!” He turns back to see the kid(?) bowing with his hand folded “For, for helping me!”</p><p> </p><p>“Huh? I didn’t do it to help you.” Better the kid doesn’t go around spreading any rumors of him being a good Samaritan, or any of that. He much prefers the reputation of a savage, violent, demon.</p><p> </p><p>(Karma knows exactly what the third reality will do to you if they sniff out a drop of kindness. His hands are stained, anyway, and demon is an apt description. No matter what Dr. Deern or the kids say.)</p><p> </p><p>“Then, why?” The kid raises his head and Karma is met by the most stunning pair of blue eyes he’s ever seen. For a moment, the world shifts and it’s his mother standing in the alley. Another shift and it’s Elizabeth, dripping red and mouth wide open and the world is turning unbearably warm and it’s orange and red and yellow and it smells of cooked pork and-</p><p> </p><p>“Why did you do it?” He focuses back on the kid’s eyes. Takes a subtle breath disguised as changing posture. If he truly looks at them, they look less like his mother’s. Hers were sea green, while this pair is much more azure. Plus, the kid has fluffy blue hair. No scarlet mane.</p><p> </p><p>The world turns back to normal, and he hears Remor chuckle.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Asshole; should have known.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Ah, but madness comes so naturally to you. And it paints you in such nice colors~</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I just like to make people bleed.” He grins and shrugs his shoulders, yet the words taste like the ash he can still smell in the air.</p><p> </p><p>The kid doesn’t look convinced. Damn, hallucinations always lower his acting skills.</p><p> </p><p>“Anyway, what’s your name kid?” He hides his hands inside his pockets and only then does he allow them to clench. Nails dig into skin, which is painful but oh god he needed that. The smell of burnt flesh finally fades from the air.</p><p> </p><p>“Na- Nagisa!” His fluffy blue hair shakes as the kid stammers “Shiota! Nagisa Shiota! We’re both in class 1-D!”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, really?” He looks at the wall while trying to recall any image of the kid around class. None. Creepy. Intriguing. He’ll be on the lookout from now on.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, it was nice meeting you Shiota.” He waves a hand with his back turned.</p><p> </p><p>The kid’s gaze feels heavy as he walks away. So much for his good mood.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>He swears his affinity for cliffs was born in Ithersta.</p><p> </p><p>The endless blue sky, all the white, fluffy clouds (which right now, remind him of a certain head of fluffy blue) and the spots of green and color. The flowers, the aroma, the invisible ground, the peaceful whatever that permeates the whole reality. Ithersta makes the act of falling feel beautiful. Like falling asleep. Like closing his eyes and never opening them again.</p><p> </p><p>If Karma ever gets to decide his death, he wants it to be from dropping off an itherstanite cliff.</p><p> </p><p>Palontras gives him a look, probably guessing his thoughts. Karma gives him a serene smile, eyes closed. Leaning even further into the flower bed he’s decided to take a nap on. The healer sighs but says nothing and continues chatting with his patient. Karma LOVES that fuzzy, flying axolotl. He’ll never understand why the healer thinks himself a monster. Karma is one, and he likes to think he’s able to recognize another. Palontras has only ever felt gentle.</p><p> </p><p>The sound of water rushing down from the infinite pink waterfall is calming as always. Not for the first time, he wishes he could stay forever. Or at least bring Dr. Deern and the rest of the Oswald Asylum kids to live here. They’d all be happy. It’d be peaceful. Maybe after he could-</p><p> </p><p>“I know that look.” He cracks an eye open to see that not only is the healing session done, Palontras has somehow taken the patient back home and returned without him noticing. There are no signs of the sapling girl. Getting so lost inside his head and losing time is dangerous “You’re thinking of your siblings.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s just such a shame.” Doesn’t even try to deny it. Maybe none of them share his blood (which, all things considered, might be for the best) but they share his pain and a fraction of his madness. They don’t fear him “Adelaida would be thrilled to paint you, and Demian would love to ride you. Not to mention how utterly taken Jason would be with you. Fluffy animals are his favorite.”</p><p> </p><p>“Regret only hurts and poisons the soul, Karma.”</p><p> </p><p>“And yet, it comes to me so naturally…” he smirks and lets it hang between them.</p><p> </p><p>Palontras frowns and runs a paw over his forehead “Have you been talking to Remor?”</p><p> </p><p>He hums and closes both eyes again. To Palontras that is enough of an answer.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, that evil little-” he growls, white fur momentarily turning into black scales “does he get a kick out of torturing you?”</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t speak of how Remor is always by his side, only leaving him alone in his visits to the other realms. Palontras must know, but they are both content in pretending Remor is an escapable existence. Though, it’s true that for the most part they don’t converse. Horn-lover freak just chuckles and makes his life impossible while Karma tries to be the mature being in the relationship and ignore him instead of screaming and trying to murder him like he wants to do.</p><p> </p><p>“Probably, can’t imagine there’s much to do in Apollo.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sometimes I forget you’ve been to that place.” The axolotl-like creature shakes his head “You’re many cycles too young for that reality.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m 12, not a toddler.” Palontras is made up of too much light to ever truly understand. Light and darkness need each other. Karma is the bridge between both, even if it is killing him to be so.</p><p> </p><p>“Still,” his paws tread through his hair, and Karma sags into the touch in a way he can’t even with Itward, it’s probably how not-human-like the healer is in appearance “it pains me to know I can’t rid you of him or any of your horrors.”</p><p> </p><p>“You do enough Palontras.” He pats the patch of grass next to him and the healer lands with a thump, he scoots closer and buries himself in the fur “Can I take a nap like this?”</p><p> </p><p>Palontras looks at him with so much compassion it’s overwhelming. He turns his face not to meet his gaze. He never stays long in Ithersta. The peace comes at the price of knowing how he stains the reality. In the end, he was a child born of love but grown in darkness. Light always burns him after a while.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Nagisa Shiota has been staring at him.</p><p> </p><p>The boy probably thinks he’s being subtle. He really, really isn’t. But, that’s not the most bizarre thing. Lots of people stare at him, most being much less caring of if they are being obvious or not. He’s got the reputation of a delinquent and the grades of diehard nerd, after all. People stare and their eyes are never kind when they do. Girls stare with lust, hungry. Boys stare with anger, volatile.</p><p> </p><p>Nagisa Shiota stares with none of those things.</p><p> </p><p>And that’s what makes it so strange. Karma finds himself not minding half as much as he normally does when someone stares that hard. It’s freaking him out because he can’t figure out why. By all means, someone is staring, and he has never liked that unless he’s actively working to make it so. Yet Shiota does it and he almost doesn’t care, which is stupid and dangerous.</p><p> </p><p>So Karma does what he does best. He becomes proactive (hey, he can’t always avoid his issues).</p><p> </p><p>He approaches Shiota at the local library while he’s reading a magazine. Comes from behind and even startles the boy. Ah, so funny. He makes an excuse about how x-director is directing x-movie. Seriously, a quick scan through the section Shiota had been staring at so intensely and he’s by all means an expert. He invites Shiota to see the movie and, in a surprising turn of events, the boy is quick to agree. Hadn’t been prepared for that reaction. The kid even smiles. What the ever-loving fuck?</p><p> </p><p>Isn’t Karma being a delinquent computing on Shiota’s obviously useless brain? Yeah, he doesn’t steal from other students unless they’re rich assholes that are trying to rob others. Yeah, his grades are very good and mostly the reason no one bothers him for skipping classes. Yeah, he isn’t part of any gang because he thinks that’s stupid. Yeah, he only beats up people that are looking for a fight.</p><p> </p><p>Still, Shiota should know better than to accept any low-life’s proposals to meet up. He worries for the other’s safety and wonders if he hit his head on the way to the library. They set a date and place.</p><p> </p><p>Nagisa Shiota is weird, he decides.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>He finds himself enjoying the movie. Enough that he starts seeing other movies from the same director. Enough that he invites Shiota again to watch them. And isn’t that the strangest?</p><p> </p><p>He’d meant to lure Shiota into a trap so he could figure out why the boy’s always staring at him (and what does his gaze mean? It isn’t angry, and it isn’t lustful, it’s soft and he doesn’t get it) but instead he himself had ended up trapped in the inescapable pull of Shiota’s orbit. Like Shiota is a magnet and somehow Karma feels the need to get close to him.</p><p> </p><p>And it’s just that the boy is so weird.</p><p> </p><p>In class, he barely speaks and appears to be as harmless as a mouse. When they’re alone, however, the boy seems to grow a spine and gain a bite. He’s venomous with his comments at times. Oh, he always apologizes, because the kid seems to have a heart too big for the third reality (and doesn’t the idea of how he’ll get crushed eventually make Karma uncomfortable) but the venom is there.</p><p> </p><p>The boy is a walking contradiction, and he finds that he really likes that.</p><p> </p><p>He stops thinking of how he’ll use the next outing to get Shiota to spill and starts texting him at random hours just because. At some point, he caught himself in the mirror and there was a dumb smile on his face while reading a message from Shiota.</p><p> </p><p>Creepy. Intriguing. He doesn't know what to make of it.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Wanna see this one in the original language or dubbed?” He asks Shiota as he examines the cinema’s website, lying on his stomach and clicking at the computer in front of him.</p><p> </p><p>It’s a good thing the house he bought came with carpeted floors. A pain in the ass to clean, but it made laying on the floor with the frequency he did much more comfortable. A bad habit from his days at the asylum, as beds weren’t any more comfortable, and few couches made it common to sit on the cold tiles while ignoring the bugs crawling in the corners.</p><p> </p><p>Shiota hums and leans closer to see the screen “What’s the original language?”</p><p> </p><p>“English.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I think I’d like to practice my English skills.” Shiota leans back and makes himself at home on the sofa he’s claimed as his own for the past three visits. It’s good to see him so comfortable around him and the house.</p><p> </p><p>Karma snickers as he remembers that the first time he’d invited Shiota to his house, the bluenette ended up breaking a glass of water and spilling it all over the floor from sheer nervousness. Poor lad, he’d been so mortified that Karma had only been able to stare and laugh. They’d cleaned up after and Karma had assured Shiota it was okay, but it was still such a funny incident.</p><p> </p><p>Shiota gives him a look for his sudden snickering, but Karma only answers, still amused “Then I’ll buy the English tickets, Friday at eight is okay with you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Shiota nods “You’re pretty good at English yourself, aren’t you Akabane? You always sound so fluid in class.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve traveled around a lot, picked it up on the way.” His smile doesn’t falter but his fingers spasm a bit, he hopes Shiota didn’t notice. He needs to change the subject “So, on a scale from dead animal to your favorite dessert, how bad do you think the movie is going to be?”</p><p> </p><p>Other people would mutter and ask what is wrong with him, saying such things. Other people would stare blankly and try to hide their disgust for his train of thought. Other people flinch away from his demon eyes and unnerving smile, afraid of him and all his disturbing antics.</p><p> </p><p>Shiota looks at him, eyes and smile soft like he knows a secret, and says “Probably dead animal. Still want to buy some popcorn?”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“This is such a bad play.” He says, for the hundredth time in five minutes.</p><p> </p><p>“Then go home.” Shiota rolls his eyes, not moving his gaze away from where one actor throws himself on his knees and starts screaming. He’ll at least give them points for mounting a good stage at the middle of the park, and so quickly. “Stop bothering me.”</p><p> </p><p>Karma sticks out his tongue at him but relents.</p><p>“I’m cold.” He says, and Shiota takes off his scarf to throw it at his face. He blinks at it for a few seconds, then smiles and makes a mental note to buy Shiota that comic he’d been eying on their way here. He’s got spare money, that’s all.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t tell Shiota the real reason he feels eager to leave the park. It’s not like the blueberry head would believe him if he suddenly said that the flames are licking at his skin and Remor has decided to pet his hair. Anyway, he can cover some of the smell with the scarf.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Call me Nagisa.” the boy says one day, while they’re both laying in the grass and the sky is turning orange. Karma rolls to his side and faces him. Shiota's eyes are wide open, and he has that tiny adorable smile he reserves for when he’s actually happy and not just faking it for someone else’s sake.</p><p> </p><p>Karma tries really hard to preserve the moment in memory. Perhaps he could ask Adelaida to paint it for him? Woah, his heart is beating like crazy! Is he even breathing? What is going on?</p><p> </p><p>“Then call me Karma, Nagisa.” The boy’s eyes widen, as does his smile. Karma tries to remember what he ate because his stomach does a summersault.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“…and then Nagisa snapped at me saying I was an asshole.” He laughs “Which, fair, I did kinda throw him into the fountain. Little mouse got his payback though, he pulled me inside while I was trying to help him get out. We both ended up soaked.”</p><p> </p><p>His chest feels warm. Karma hasn’t felt this good in years. Spending time with Nagisa is something he’s starting to look forward to.</p><p> </p><p>“Child, that’s good and all but… why did you wake me up to tell me this?” Mabuka stares in absolute confusion and a hint of distaste. Too much light for her, he guesses.</p><p> </p><p>“Hmm, no reason in particular. Just hadn’t talked to you in a while and wondered if you felt lonely.” He leans back on his arms and crosses his legs “But Remor is being an asshole. We can totally bitch about him if you’d prefer.”</p><p> </p><p>“Arrogant human! You dare speak ill of the Prince of Darkness!” both Mabuka and him roll their eyes at the annoying tree’s usual remarks. Mabuka glares and the tree shuts up, which makes him turn around and stick out his tongue too.</p><p> </p><p>“Remor was always a difficult child growing up. He’s too eager to seed despair, instead of letting it grow organically, nurturing it, and feeding from those efforts.” The Mother of Darkness complains, blood dripping from red eyes as she clucks her tongue in disapproval. “He got a Destiny and became uncontrollable.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know, right?” He makes a circular motion with one foot “He’s such a pretentious goat freak. Why even a goat, actually?”</p><p> </p><p>“I think he heard something about goats having demonic connections in the Third. It was adorable at first, but I’ve grown tired of that form.” Mabuka sighs “Yet he refuses to change it.”</p><p> </p><p>“You do the eyes-dripping-blood motif much better, by the way.” He adds, making a gesture with his hand “In you it looks kinda stylish, what with the red eyes and crown. On him it just looks gross.”</p><p> </p><p>He grimaces to make a point.</p><p> </p><p>Mabuka laughs, and it’s like nails scratching a chalkboard, like thousands of babies wailing, like the last breath of someone burning alive. He isn’t sure if his ears are bleeding from the sound, nor does he care much. Palontras may say he’s too young for Apollo, but he has adapted just fine to it. When he had been younger, more foolish, he’d found the callousness and cruelty of the realm atrocious.</p><p> </p><p>He’d found Mabuka horrid for not caring about his pain and instead relishing in it.</p><p> </p><p>Nowadays, he finds it to be refreshing. Here he can be as wicked as he wants, and he won’t be judged for it. His less stable side has a field day whenever he visits. It’s bizarre, because none of the creatures in the Fifth Reality are evil, per se. They thrive in anguish and despair, yes. Still, they are upfront about it. They don’t hide behind masks of kindness and they don’t care what the other realms think of them. Mabuka herself has great respect for all the other realms, even if the other realms fear and are disgusted by her existence.</p><p> </p><p>Apollo doesn’t comfort him the way Ithersta does, but at least here he never feels like a stain.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, child. You certainly are amusing.” Mabuka’s eyes are alight and her voice is smooth.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, I try.” He fires back cheekily, smirking.</p><p> </p><p>Mabuka laughs again and yep, his ears are definitely bleeding. Will Palontras be mad if he passes by Ithersta to get them healed? He can always refuse to tell him where he was, but the axolotl will still suspect. Such a good thing Palontras knows when to shut up.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>For someone with such an androgynous appearance, Nagisa hates being mistaken for a girl.</p><p> </p><p>“Why not cut it?”</p><p> </p><p>“As if my mom would let me.” There’s something bitter in Nagisa’s voice as he says that, and he leaves it alone because Blueberry never asks why Karma avoids being touched like it burns. Instead he hums and asks his size in clothing. “What for?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing in particular.” He smirks and lets the boy thing he’s plotting something nefarious.</p><p> </p><p>Nagisa sighs and shakes his head in defeat. Then, he takes a deep breath, clenches his hands and whispers “A girl said I was cute today.”</p><p> </p><p>Were it anyone else, Karma would be all over them, squeezing and milking the romance possibilities for all they were worth. Yet Nagisa doesn’t sound excited, hell he sounds like they just told him his dog died (the only fault in Blueberry, he seems to be a dog person) and that’s enough to remind Karma of the eight kids he’s left at England.</p><p> </p><p>“And that bothered you?” He takes care in making his voice come out purely curious, not even a hint of anything else the boy could mistake for reproach or incredulity.</p><p> </p><p>Nagisa gives a jerky nod, head still down and knuckles turning white from how tight he’s gripping the fabric of his pants.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m guessing this isn’t the first time.” Karma says in a dry voice. Considering Nagisa’s stature, long hair, and baggy clothes, he can’t exactly blame people for being unsure when addressing him. That doesn’t mean Nagisa is any less justified in his feelings. That doesn’t mean it hurts him any less.</p><p> </p><p>“People always refer to me as <em>cute, </em>or <em>adorable</em>.” His breaths are coming quicker “I know they mean well but, but I hate it. I hate it. I don’t want to be cute or adorable, not when it feels like they are aiming the words at a girl. Karma I really <em>really </em>hate it, I wish they’d stop.”</p><p> </p><p>The venomous, angry, hateful side of him, wants to say: <em>Tough luck! I never wanted to be pretty either and see how useful all that wishing was to keep adults from noticing me.</em></p><p> </p><p>The rest of him feels a sadness seep deep into his bones for Nagisa.</p><p> </p><p>He slides from the bench they’re sitting on and squats in front of the boy, meeting his gaze from below. Blueberry’s eyes are a bit watery, but the boy won’t allow himself to cry. Another pang of sadness hits Karma from how familiar this situation is.</p><p> </p><p>“Then we’ll just use other words to compliment you.” He says, like it’s simple. “What about handsome? Or attractive?”</p><p> </p><p>Nagisa stares blankly at him, as if not computing the words. Karma tries again.</p><p> </p><p>“Nagisaaaaa,” he opens and closes his mouth in exaggerated gestures, voice devoid of emotion “you’re very handsome.”</p><p> </p><p>Nagisa continues staring, and Karma cracks a smile “You’re a very handsome boy.”</p><p> </p><p>Nagisa goes very red. Karma laughs.</p><p> </p><p>From that day onwards he makes a point to repeat the phrase whenever he sees Nagisa clench his fists and hide his eyes.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It happens once. Just once. It’s enough to make Karma consider in all seriousness the possibility of just grabbing a damn pencil and running it through both his eyeballs.</p><p> </p><p>(Ah, but then he’d also need to cut off his ears. Too messy.)</p><p> </p><p>They’re cleaning the classroom. And by they, he means Nagisa and him. Everyone else is too scared to be his cleaning buddy, which he can’t really blame them for, but he still needs to clean the class at least one day of the week because he isn’t enough of a jerk to bail on that specific obligation.</p><p> </p><p>And cleaning all the class by himself kinda sucks.</p><p> </p><p>Luckily, like on many other matters, Nagisa is an exception and seems content enough to be cleaning the empty classroom with him.  A great mystery but a relief, though he won’t admit that to the shorter boy. Reputation to maintain and all that. Blueberry gets to see a bit too much of him anyway.</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t think you’d be one for cleaning so thoroughly Karma.” said Blueberry says while standing atop a desk and wiping the window. A second later he seems to realize what he said and starts yammering apologies, light pink dusting his cheeks. “I- I just meant that you don’t look the type- I mean. Ah!”</p><p> </p><p>Karma chuckles and wiggles his eyebrows in a playful manner.</p><p> </p><p>“I look like someone who thinks cleaning is a waste of time?” He guesses, tilting his head and leaning forward on the teacher’s desk. “The chaos room type? The <em>filthy</em> type?”</p><p> </p><p>Nagisa’s light pink dusting starts turning into a delightful shade of red. He stammers out some more apologies for assuming but Karma waves one hand and shakes his head. Assuming is all people like to do in regard to him, nothing new, fun, or interesting there. And he hates ruining the moments he spends with Nagisa by thinking of some nameless idiots. That is a waste of time.</p><p> </p><p>“Eh, guess it’s a thing I learned.” He admits, shrugging his shoulders. “Don’t think I liked cleaning when I was younger.”</p><p> </p><p>(Nothing ever feels clean enough when the walls are constantly dripping blood and the smell -a tint of copper overshadowed by a mix of rotten eggs and dead animal- permeates the air. It never leaves. Never leaves. It’s everywhere if he focuses enough. The Ultrarreality follows him.)</p><p> </p><p>“Really? Are your parents very strict on hygiene?” Nagisa turns around and his eyes are scrutinizing. Karma doesn’t think he even notices when he does that “Now that I think about it, I’ve never seen them around your house. They must be very busy.”</p><p> </p><p>Because that’s not my actual home, just a place I bought when I moved here, and my parents are buried six feet underground so yeah, it’d be kinda hard to see them around. He says none of that, of course. As much as he likes Nagisa and the way he can relax around him, that particular secret is one that could endanger a lot of people if looked at closely.</p><p> </p><p>“They love to travel.” He says, because it’s an easy excuse “And I have school so I can’t go along.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s sad.” Nagisa says, eyebrows pulling downwards.</p><p> </p><p>“Really?” he’d never have considered it so. At least if they were traveling, he could call them and hear their voices. Or see them during holidays. Not visit two cold stones. And he could live at home.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. Can’t they stay during school year and travel during holidays?” Nagisa is getting way too invested in his fake living situation. Time to redirect like a pro.</p><p> </p><p>“Nah, but what about you?” he’s been keeping this detail to use it as weapon for quite a while, he’d feel guiltier if it wasn’t about to save his ass “You’ve never invited me to your house.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, well, you see…” Nagisa starts making up excuses and Karma doesn’t smirk because that would be revealing his hand “My mom is a bit strict about visits. Wouldn’t want you to, err.”</p><p> </p><p>“Scare her off?” Karma taunts “Do you doubt of my acting skills, eh Nagisa?”</p><p> </p><p>Nagisa seems to want to tear off his hair from exasperation, so he counts it as a win. And then it happens. One second everything is normal, and the next, BAM!</p><p> </p><p>Stains of blood, the head of a deer, and… is that a dead anaconda in front of him? The fuck? He jumps from the chair and looks around. There’s only one reason he’d be in the shitshow that is the Ultrarreality if he wasn’t focused on getting there.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Remor, you fucking bastard. Is this payback for bitching about you with your mother?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Oh, you did that? I’ll never understand how you can get along so well with her and the turn around and hate me so. It’s perplexing, truly.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>She’s ancient and all-knowing. Also has a great sense of humor. You, on the other hand, are a pretentious bloody goat that gets his kicks out of making me mad. See the difference?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Can’t say I do. But anyways, I brought you along because I’ve noticed you’ve become rather fond of a certain someone.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Karma’s breath hitches and he clenches his fists. His shit is his shit, no one else gets dragged into it.</p><p> </p><p>“You little shit.” He whispers at the room “Touch Nagisa and I swear I’ll find a way to kill you.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I’ve done nothing. Rather, the damage has already been done by someone else. Look, Keeper.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He turns towards the desk Nagisa had been standing atop just a second ago (and how the Ultrarreality always stretches time and makes him feel disconnected) with a knot in his throat.</p><p> </p><p>In Nagisa’s place there is a skeleton (that’s not Nagisa, that’s not Nagisa) hanging from the rooftop with a rope around its neck. That’s not what makes bile rise to his throat, though. No, as gruesome and horrible as it is watching a friend’s corpse, this is not his first rodeo. It’s the fact that there’s a Kamala.</p><p> </p><p>The dark, viscous being is wrapped tightly against the corpse’s torso. Like chains. It has long hair and seems to be cradling the skull.</p><p> </p><p>M̶o̸m̴ ̵w̴a̴n̷t̸e̶d̴ ̷a̵ ̵girl̵. ̸</p><p> </p><p>He wants to throw up.</p><p> </p><p>S̵h̵e̷'̵s̴ ̴angry̵, ̶ ̵s̸h̸e̷'̸s̸ ̸sad̴. ̶ ̶E̶i̴t̸h̶e̷r̸ ̵w̴a̵y̶ ̴s̵h̵e̷ ̴s̷c̷r̸e̶a̵m̸s̷.̸ ̸E̵v̵e̷r̶y̴t̶h̵i̵n̵g̴ ̸h̵u̸r̸t̸s̸.̸</p><p> </p><p>No. Stop. Nagisa didn’t tell him this. He has no right to this information. This is a violation of Nagisa’s trust. Stop it. He shouldn’t be listening to this. He covers his ears and sinks to his knees. He closes his eyes. Get out. Get out of his head. GET OUT.</p><p> </p><p>Remor keeps laughing and his ears are bleeding and the Kamala is still whispering and he wants to hear none of it. He screams and he feels reality shatter like glass.</p><p> </p><p>Nagisa is standing in front of him. Worried frown in his face as his mouth opens and closes. Karma can’t bear to look him in the eye. He’s still standing in front of the teacher’s desk.</p><p> </p><p>“…KARMA!” He flinches and Nagisa lowers his voice “I’ve been speaking to you for five minutes. What happened?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah,” he gives him a closed eye smile and forces out a chuckle, there are still some blood stains on the floor flickering in and out of existence “I feel a bit sick today Nagisa.”</p><p> </p><p>Nagisa’s azure eyes widen and he starts pushing Karma towards the nurse’s office. He manages to avoid what would have been a spectacular freak-out (nurse? After what he saw? Psh, sure) but Nagisa makes him swear to go visit a doctor. He crosses his fingers behind his back and nods.</p><p> </p><p>As soon as he arrives to his house, he runs to the toilet and vomits.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It strikes him as he’s lying on the floor.</p><p> </p><p>It’s a Tuesday night. Nagisa can’t come over because his mom needed some help and ‘what kind of son would I be if I didn’t help her Karma?’ so he’s been texting him and Karma is planning their next Friday outing. Anything to get him out of that house.</p><p> </p><p>It hits him when Nagisa sends a message saying: Thx, ur the best.</p><p> </p><p>His heart beats, his chest feels warm, and he feels the rare and bizarre compulsion to have the Blueberry close so he can hug him. His eyes go round as plates.</p><p> </p><p>Crap.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“I think I’m in love.” The note of hysteria in his voice makes the twins snicker. Witches.</p><p> </p><p>“Dreadful.” Says Mia.</p><p> </p><p>“Atrocious.” Says Clara.</p><p> </p><p>“Not very helpful.” He replies while sticking out his tongue at both.</p><p> </p><p>“What is there to help you with?” They question “It’s a simple matter. Kill him.”</p><p> </p><p>Silence.</p><p> </p><p>“What the fuck?” they grimace at his choice of words and he winces in apology “Sorry. Just, what? And how do you know it’s a him?”</p><p> </p><p>They roll their eyes, which, rude, but he knows better than to correct them on that. He’ll keep it as ammunition. This time their tea party consists only of desserts so he’s in a much more compliant mood. The tea is thankfully only made up of water and whatever hallucinogen leaves they have. They wouldn't poison him on a white, full moon. Too many chances he'd end up dead. And then, who would play with them?</p><p> </p><p>“Nagisa this, Nagisa that.” They scrunch their noses to show their distaste “It seems he’s the only thing you can speak about lately. Are you saying there’s actually <em>another one?</em>”</p><p> </p><p>“Jealous?” he raises an eyebrow while smirking.</p><p> </p><p>“You wish.” They cross their arms “Kill him, because now he holds a piece of you. He’ll destroy you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Nagisa would never do that.” He replies, tone showing his disbelief “I know the guy, he’s harmless.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, is he?” They bare their teeth in unison “Do you really know him, Karma?”</p><p> </p><p>The image of Nagisa’s Kamala flashes through his eyes. The way he is always gazing at him. How he has the ability to disappear and how sometimes when he’ll surprise him, it feels as if he’s been stabbed. Nagisa is filled with bloodlust, even more than Karma. It scares him at times, how good the boy is at masking it, but he's been ignoring it. Why?</p><p> </p><p>“What you’re saying is insane.” He raises his shoulders and snaps at them. It’s easier.</p><p> </p><p>“What is sanity Karma?” they tilt their heads, still smiling in that eerie way of theirs “You’ve done this same song and dance before. Isn’t madness doing the exact same thing and expecting different results?”</p><p> </p><p>They laugh at him with their loud nasty voices and he hates them, but he can’t find a comeback. A stone has settled in his stomach.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>They’ve set up a date at the food court near Nagisa’s house just in case his mom needs him early today. And it’s not a <em>date</em> because they aren’t together. Well, they <em>are </em>together in that they spend a lot of time with each other, alone, and he’s called Nagisa handsome and he <em>might</em> like him as something more than friends but that doesn’t mean this is a date because obviously Nagisa doesn’t like him back <em>that way</em> and as far as he’s aware to be counted as a date both parties have to be aware that it <em>is </em>a date, which this isn’t, because they’ve done it lots of times and why is Karma being so weird about this-</p><p> </p><p>His head, as stated above, is a mess. Has been since he came to the horrifying revelation on Tuesday that he could possibly, maybe, like Nagisa. There was no need to involve the twins. He doesn’t even know why he thought <em>that </em>was a good idea. No need to panic. It’s just a silly crush, nothing more.</p><p> </p><p>(Except Karma knows himself a little too well, and he feels a little too much, too deep and too fast. Not for the first time, and certainly not the last, he wishes for a heart of stone.)</p><p> </p><p>Anyway, he’s meeting Nagisa, they’re having lunch together, and if everything goes well they might even have time to watch a movie at the nearby cinema.</p><p> </p><p>Now if only he could find said Blueberry.</p><p> </p><p>Karma scans the food court, tray in hand, and searches for a familiar head of fluffy blue. He doesn’t find it. Concerning. Perhaps his mother ended up forbidding the outing -his psychotic shitty mother who needs therapy and meds, that coming from someone who has been clinically diagnosed as psychotic and has always hated meds- in which case Karma might sneak into Nagisa’s house tonight to give some moral support.</p><p> </p><p>If it wasn’t for the ridiculous notion Nagisa has of his parents getting back together, the fact Karma wants Nagisa nowhere near an orphanage or government control thank you very much, and that filing a complaint would mean getting somewhere near the government himself, he’d have reported both the woman and the man to the authorities a while ago. Yes, even Nagisa’s father.</p><p> </p><p>Nagisa seemed to have the man on a golden pillar, and Karma is unfortunately aware of how easily those crumbled. There was no way the man wasn’t aware of how unstable his wife was, probably the reason he ran away, the fucking coward, and he’d still left his son in the hands of that woman. And continued to do so, never once fighting for custody. Karma called bullshit. Nagisa could worship his father all he wanted; Karma found the man disgusting.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Having some violent thoughts Dagenhart?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Karma rolls his eyes. Whoop-dee-fucking-doo. <em>Look at what the sewer brought.</em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I’m aware that’s an insult Dagenhart.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Congratulations! You can hear! I wasn’t trying to hide it asshole.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Remor chuckles (never a good sign) and all of a sudden Karma experiences the awful feeling of a knife sliding slowly between his ribs. He gasps, a waste of precious air because the basement is on fire and he needs to get out, but he feels faint, due to blood loss or the lack of oxygen-</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve been here the whole time.” and there Nagisa is, flickering in and out of existence. Right, Nagisa’s bloodlust, he can do that. Right.</p><p> </p><p>Karma smirks in a way he hopes doesn’t betray how off-kilter he feels, and pokes at how he didn’t notice him because the boy was so short. Nagisa rolls his eyes. The basement doesn’t banish, neither do the flames, and as he sits down he fights off a wince because his non-existent injury is still there.</p><p> </p><p>Drip, drip, drip. The blood loss <em>isn’t real</em>.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t want to eat anymore.</p><p> </p><p>Nagisa continues to flicker in and out of existence, soft smile turning deranged, height varying, blue hair flashing red, and azure turning sea green at times. Karma tastes the bile on his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>“Something wrong Karma?” and he knows Nagisa said it out of concern, but the voice coming out isn’t his and it’s mocking him “You seem unwell.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s nothing, just remembered I ate before coming here. Now I feel full.” He wants to lay down in the floor and curl into a ball, but he can’t. This isn’t the basement. There are people here. Nagisa is here. What he’s seeing isn’t real. “Wanna eat mine?”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Remor what the fuck are you doing?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Nothing~</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Cut the bullshit, stop playing mind games!</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Nope.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Karma feels like screaming.</p><p> </p><p>Which he won’t do. That’s what Remor wants. If he screams out of nowhere people will think him more insane than they already do. He doesn’t want to get dragged off to a hospital. Please don’t lock him up again. He needs to breathe.</p><p> </p><p>Somehow, someway, he manages to get through the food court nightmare and Remor gives up when they enter the cinema. He hopes Nagisa can’t notice the way he’s shaking.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>His nightmare worsen. Nagisa seems to star in most of them. He’s pretty sure Remor has found a way to infiltrate his dreams.</p><p> </p><p>“What are we doing on Friday?” Elizabeth says, except it’s Nagisa. Nagisa who is so much like Elizabeth sometimes. Smiling while stabbing him and then asking if he’s okay. Pretending to be a mouse and then turning into a snake. Pretending to love him when he’s well aware that’s impossible.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I’m busy this Friday.” Because he’s weak and he can’t. He can’t continue like this. He just can’t. Because it’s not just Remor anymore. He sees Elizabeth in anything Nagisa does, the good and the bad. Because he’s in love and fuck, he can’t go through this shit again.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>(Because maybe it’ll turn out well and he doesn’t deserve that.)</strike>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Ignoring Nagisa is much more difficult and much easier than he thought, at the same time.</p><p> </p><p>It’s more difficult, because every time the boy speaks, and he ignores him. That his eyes light up when he sees him, but dull when he passes along. That he seems to gather the courage to head towards him and he changes direction. Every time he swears, he feels a piece of him dying.</p><p> </p><p>(But at least Nagisa is not dead. Karma’s place is among the broken and Nagisa is not. He’s battered and bruised and scarred but he’s strong and kind and he’s bent but never past repair and Karma loves him for it but at the same time fears him for that resilience. In Pandora, such willpower could squash thousands. Karma’s place is among the broken because everyone else leaves sooner or later. He won’t kill Nagisa, but he’ll kill every piece of him that lives in the boy. And vice-versa.)</p><p> </p><p>It’s easier because Nagisa, though determined at the start, flickers and wanes and extinguishes soon enough. Nagisa gives up, and it hurts but he has no room to complain when he’s the one that made it so. By their second year, first semester mid-terms, they have reached the silent agreement to pretend their friendship had never been as strong as it looked.</p><p> </p><p>The first day he stops feeling that ever present gaze in class, he arrives at the house and phones Dr. Deern. Palontras says regret only hurts and poisons the soul, yet it comes to him so naturally.</p><p> </p><p>“Karma? What happened?”</p><p> </p><p>He can count on one hand the times he’s allowed himself to cry where the man can hear him. That night he adds another finger to the count.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Karma continues to be a challenge to write, and yeah, I'm weak to Karmagisa. I swear next chapter is the last before we get to the actual canon timeline though. Also, me just (waves hand) through the Fran Bow lore. Imma go hide in the corner now. Comment and leave kudos if you liked, thanks for the support!</p><p>(And yeah, Karma and Mabuka totally get together on Mondays to bitch about Remor)</p><p>Extras:</p><p>Karma: (falls in love)<br/>Karma: Alexa play Heart Attack by Demi Lovato</p><p> </p><p>Karma: (seeks advise from the twins)<br/>Twins: (give gruesome and extreme advise)<br/>Karma: surprised pikachu face</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Judas Kiss (Scars pt. 2)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sometimes, lowering your walls can lead to good things.<br/>It can lead to deepening your relationship with a person.<br/>It can lead to finding light at the end of the tunnel.<br/>It can lead to discovering the world is much less cruel than you thought.</p><p>Or it can lead to you wishing you’d made those motherfucking walls a goddamn fortress.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is where we truly start using those graphic descriptions of violence, and some vague alusions to rape and child abuse. Karma also experiences extreme discomfort and makes allusions to harrassment, even if that is not Kensaku's intention. Be warned and stay safe people.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“How’s Annie?” He asks the moment the line picks up.</p><p> </p><p>“Well hello to you too Karma. I’m well, thanks for asking. And you? How’s school?”</p><p> </p><p>An eyeroll, and they call him dramatic. Probably payback for calling him last Friday, bawling like a baby, then refusing to explain. “The twins don’t like anyone else lecturing me on my manners Doc, neither did Hadley, and you can’t exactly contact either of them anymore to ask permission can you? Now cut the chase, how’s Annie?”</p><p> </p><p>On the other side of the line, he can picture Dr. Deern sighing and running a hand through his tired face. Last time he’d seen him, the good doctor had been wrinkling. Taking care of eight kids (now soon-to-be adolescents) who neither like him nor trust him has got to be exhausting. Add to that the problem child that moved back to Japan, who barely gives signs he’s still alive, and, well…</p><p> </p><p>Karma feels just the smallest microscopic level of regret. Mentioning Hadley was a low blow, and this isn’t a battle. He needs to remind himself that.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m doing fine.” after a minute of thick silence “School’s difficult, I guess.”</p><p> </p><p>Dr. Deern hums, his unique way of saying that’s bullshit, but he’ll let it pass for the sake of having a civil conversation because he is not an impolite jerk of a brat. Tch, talk about passive aggressive. Karma forgets at times the doctor’s not all bark. Polite to a fault? Yes. Doormat? Hell no.</p><p> </p><p>He twirls the telephone’s cord between his fingers and leans back against the wall, amused “Anyway, how’s everything back ho- back there? Any of the brats giving you trouble?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll tell you about Annie, no need for you to mock me.” We both know the kids are always giving me trouble, goes unsaid. Karma laughs “Her fever went down on Monday; she’s fully recovered and healthy. Only restless. They all are since you left. Looks like a year later we’re still adapting to the change.”</p><p> </p><p>Best opening he’s going to get “…maybe I should go back.”</p><p> </p><p>Silence. Then, a sharp intake of breath from the other side, followed by a series of coughs. Karma winces. He’s going to push the man into an early grave, isn’t he? At least Senersedee is peaceful.</p><p> </p><p>“Absolutely not. The kids aren’t your responsibility.” He smiles, the edges sharp as broken glass. As if that had ever stopped him from worrying over them. The doctor should know better already “What’s that going to solve? The dependency will only grow worse.”</p><p> </p><p>And what’s the problem with that? But he bites back the words. He knows what the problem is.</p><p> </p><p>“You can’t stay here Karma. I thought we’d agreed on that.” The doctor is starting to sound desperate and great he has fucked up yet again. Why can’t he go a week without being a stain?</p><p> </p><p>“I know, I know.” and because he’s an idiot, he keeps talking “but would it really be that bad?”</p><p> </p><p>“Karma,” the man’s voice is strangled “you were comatose for a week. The kids don’t need that extra trauma, and I’m not about to watch you shrivel away into a husk. Not after everything.”</p><p> </p><p>“But,” he scrambles his brain for a solution “perhaps now it’ll be different? Maybe I can set up some alarms-”</p><p> </p><p>“No.” The doctor’s voice is firm, and it makes him swallow his excuses “Being here would only worsen your condition. It’s a bitter pill to swallow for me too, but it’s the truth. Too many memories, and unpleasant ones at that. If you really want to be back in England, I can arrange it. Just not here.”</p><p> </p><p><em>Not with us</em>. A heavy sigh. He can imagine the man sitting down and loosening his tie.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s going on Karma? I thought you were happy to be reconnecting with your birthplace. You seemed to be improving, even said you had missed Japan. What changed? And don’t say school.”</p><p> </p><p>And that’s the worst thing: Japan is amazing. Even if the only memories he had of the place was the meagre two years he’d actually spent in its soil during his childhood, he’d missed it dearly every day he spent locked away at Oswald Asylum. England is not bad, per se, but reluctant as he is to admit it, Dr Deern is right. The only appeal England has to him is seeing his found family. Being cut off both from them and his cultural roots at the same time sounds suffocating. He doesn’t really want that.</p><p> </p><p>But saying ‘I had a crush and he was great but he was also very dangerous so I couldn’t trust him and now I’m all alone again except it’s worse because now I know what it means to have friends and enjoy school so I’m aware that I am not doing that and I feel lonely’ sounds a bit pathetic.</p><p> </p><p>“So I can never see you guys again?” He says instead. Because fuck facing his feelings. The little assholes will never see the light of day if he can help it.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” Dr Deern must be pulling his hair, but what else did he expect when he got a call from the problem child? Karma’s never been one for small talk. The man struggles to explain “You can come anytime you like. The kids have left your room alone so you can visit on the next holidays, it’s just that…”</p><p> </p><p>“Just that I can’t stay very long, cause I’m fucked in the head, and being near you guys while in England makes me even more fucked in the head.” He closes his eyes and chuckles humorlessly, sliding down the wall and hitting the floor with a thump “And you guys can’t move to Japan, because the kids have found stability and they deserve some normalcy after all the shit they went through. Aside from the fact the stupid government could be searching for all of us and I’m the only one with the luxury of having been registered under a false name. Hooray me, I guess.”</p><p> </p><p>He fiddles with some loose threads from the carpet. The house is dark, he has homework to do but he doesn’t really feel like doing it. Hell, he can probably finish it tomorrow before class, in any case.</p><p> </p><p>The doctor clears his throat “…look, Karma. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t reach out to me, or any of the kids if you wish to speak with them. If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. Just, find someone you can tell these things to. You’re not alone.”</p><p> </p><p>Karma hums and hangs up. Rude on his part, but whatever, he can do passive aggressive too. He looks around the darkened room, sitting in absolute silence. You’re not alone. He laughs.</p><p> </p><p>Aren’t I?</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Even the asshole of Remor is silent. Karma thinks these past few months have been the longest the pretentious goat freak has gone without taunting/torturing him.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t miss waking up to see dead foxes laying next to him in bed, nor is he sad to not be assaulted by graphic imagery at the least expected moment. It’d be relaxing if the lack of it wasn’t another factor to add into his unnerved state. Not even a flash of burnt skin.</p><p> </p><p>Remor is a bastard. Life would be much better if the goat left him alone for sure. Yet, right now his absence just makes the emptiness of the house seem grander. If there is a presence Karma has adapted to always having by his side, for better or worse, it is Remor’s. And now he is gone too.</p><p> </p><p>That freaking horn-lover. Loneliness indeed makes even the worst options sound appealing.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“This is the third visit this week.”</p><p> </p><p>Karma hums in acknowledgment but says nothing in reply. He makes a one hand motion for Itward to pass him the wrench. The skeleton does, and he rolls back in the skateboard to find the loose bolt underneath the machine.</p><p> </p><p>“You know I’m delighted to have you around, but, is there a reason that your visit rate has gone up in recent weeks?” He wrenches the bolt tighter and refuses to answer. Oh evasion, his oldest friend.</p><p> </p><p>He rolls forward and makes another hand motion “Screwdriver.”</p><p> </p><p>Itward hands it to him, though his face seems reluctant to let the matter go. It goes against his curious nature. Karma empathizes. However, he really hopes he’ll stop asking. He rolls backwards.</p><p> </p><p>“Normally, you’d invite Palontras along.” A pause “I’m quite surprised by his absence.”</p><p> </p><p>He groans and rubs his hands over his face. Of course Itward didn’t get the memo he really didn’t want to speak about it. He stays mute for another minute, but the silence and stillness gets to him.</p><p> </p><p>“He won’t stop hovering since I told him about Nagisa.” He’s thankful Itward can’t see his face, it’s twisted into a grimace at the reminder of Blueberry “The axolotl is sure I need to reconcile with him. Something about me isolating or shit like that, which, not true.”</p><p> </p><p>“And you don’t want to because…” well, at least his friend knows better than to call him out on his bullshit.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not fair to him.” He finally looks up to the metal plating and facepalms because he forgot to ask for the screws. He rolls forward “Screws.”</p><p> </p><p>“How is it unfair towards Nagisa? He gets his friend back, along with an apology.” Karma has always been fascinated by the sound his skeletal joints do when moving. They drop the screws in his hand, and he pushes backwards with force.</p><p> </p><p>“A friend that has already abandoned him once? Yeah sure, he has won the lottery. I know more about him than he’d ever be comfortable revealing, I’m violent, and I scare off other people.” He starts unscrewing the oxidized and rusty ones, throwing them into a plastic bag he has at hand “Besides, I’m not even sure being around him is a good idea. Hell knows what so much bloodlust in a person can do. Pair that with his creepy notice-me-not abilities and yeah, he’s a ticking bomb.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sounds to me like this arrangement is more to your benefit than his. You sure he even benefits at all?” Karma finishes unscrewing and sighs. Touché. Itward can see through all his excuses. Palontras can too, he just chooses to not be as direct. He’s still pushy as fuck, though.</p><p> </p><p>He scrolls forward, gets into a sitting position again and pins Itward in place with his gaze. He needs him and his suit to know how serious the matter is to him. The skeleton pulls a chair and straddles it, crossing his arms at the top and resting his chin on them.</p><p> </p><p>“I think I was falling in love Itward.”</p><p> </p><p>“What is the matter with that?”</p><p> </p><p>He shakes his head, incredulous. Is he really unaware of how freaking dangerous that could be?</p><p> </p><p>“Let me repeat that. I was falling IN LOVE. Me! With Nagisa!” he swings his arms to emphasize the point “I don’t do that. I don’t want to, nor am I interested, in such matters.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why not Karma? You love Palontras, and me. You love your siblings and I know for a fact you’re rather fond of Dr Deern despite your complicated past with the man. What danger could Nagisa pose to you?” His big yellow eyes are serious, yet he’s not dismissing his fears. That’s why Karma gathers the courage to speak. Itward needs to know it’s not the same.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t get it. He was a threat, but I knew that from the start. And yet, I couldn’t help but relax around him! Even when he’d appear out of nowhere and stab me with his bloodlust, I’d be on guard around five minutes and then I’d go right back to enjoying myself. See the issue?”</p><p> </p><p>“Can’t… say I do. To be honest.”</p><p> </p><p>Karma sighs and shakes his head “He had the ability to make me lower my defenses. Even when I knew I should be raising them. And, even when scared about that, I was willing to spend all my time with him! The more I think about it, the more it creeps me out.”</p><p> </p><p>“Did he ever give you a reason to doubt him?” Itward is like a dog, unwilling to drop the subject. He’s starting to regret opening his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>“No,” he squirms and lowers his gaze as the skeleton’s eyes narrow “he was always nice. But that’s the thing, right? Nice people, the ones you just feel safe around, they’re the most dangerous.”</p><p> </p><p>“I fail to follow your logic Karma.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, when you know there’s something wrong about someone.” His hands clench anxiously, he still refuses to meet Itward’s eyes “When you can see the signs someone is not all they seem. These little things that just don’t click. The inconsistencies. When you can see them, but the person is so nice you ignore them. That’s a bit like walking right into the wolf’s mouth. Nagisa did the same with me, though, and I guess him trusting <em>me</em> is as scary as me trusting <em>him</em>. Because nice people are nice right up until they stop being so. And by then it’s too late.”</p><p> </p><p>He raises his shoulders and draws his knees close to his chest, this confession makes him itch and the only reason he trusts Itward enough to say it is because the guy along with Palontras has saved his life multiple times. When he speaks, his voice is small and he hates it, he hates feeling so small.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t want another Elizabeth. I don’t want to be one, and I don’t want to interact with one.”</p><p> </p><p>Itward sighs, but Karma hides his face so he can only hear the rustling sound his suit makes as the skeleton stands up, and how his footsteps get close to him. He tenses up.</p><p> </p><p>One skeletal hand ruffles his hair and pats his head.</p><p> </p><p>“We can’t erase the events from the past, but we can try to not let them affect our future. You’ve trusted, and you’ve been burned for it. But you can’t let that stop you from loving others Karma.”</p><p> </p><p>He raises his head to see Itward crouching in front of him, big smile on his face and eyes soft.</p><p> </p><p>“I know,” he says “It’s just that, the way I felt around Nagisa. It was like my parents, like Mr. Midnight. They’re all dead. It was like Elizabeth and…”</p><p> </p><p>He shrugs, not feeling in the mood to finish the sentence “I’m a mess Itward. It would be unfair to try and approach Nagisa when I don’t know if I’ll end up fleeing again. I’ll hurt him in the long run.”</p><p> </p><p>And it’s just that the cluster of emotions in his stomach when thinking about the boy makes him nauseous. Fear, anger, love, fondness, despair, happiness. He’s relieved and he’s torn apart.</p><p> </p><p>“Then start small.” Suggests the skeleton “Nagisa brings you too many emotions. So start with someone less important to you. Someone whose fallout you know you can survive, so you’ll be at ease.”</p><p> </p><p>Karma takes a deep breath. In. Out. He ruminates on that option and nods.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.” He narrows his eyes, determined “Okay I can do that.”</p><p> </p><p>He feels a little bit less like he’s drowning, and it’s such a relief he actually means it when he says he’ll try lowering his guard. It can’t go all that bad, right? Maybe he really isn’t alone.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>He attends another tea party with the twins. He tells them story after heart-wrenching story until his throat burns and he can’t speak anymore. Until his teeth are stained and his mouth drips red and he’s dizzy and one moment away from vomiting from how much he’s had to eat. But he doesn’t stutter, and he doesn’t cry, aware that the pair of hyenas will pounce upon him the moment they sense a weakness. They still grin and stretch their mouths just a tad too much for it to look natural.</p><p> </p><p>Witches are vicious, but they keep their word.</p><p> </p><p>He leaves their house with a year’s supply of chamomile, lavender, and chrysanthemums. Magic added, of course. No way he’d do that for plain old flowers. Good thing he bought a house with such a big garden. He’ll need to buy new pots though.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Karma chooses the homeroom teacher to be his test runner.</p><p> </p><p>Kensaku Ono has always been nice to him, and Karma is pretty sure the man really is as harmless as a mouse so even if things go south, he’s sure he can overpower the teacher. Kensaku seems a bit too eager to praise him at times, and the fact he hasn’t given him any serious punishments over his violent behavior and carefree attitude seems fishy but, isn’t that the point of this whole thing?</p><p> </p><p>Karma is suspicious of everyone, so perhaps Dr Deern, Palontras, and Itward are right. Perhaps he’s just being paranoid. Using everything as an excuse to never get close to anyone.</p><p> </p><p>So he grits his teeth and talks more to his teacher. It’s bearable.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>He sneaks into the apartment complex with no problems (as if that’d be difficult, he escaped a freaking asylum at 11) using just a bit of aid from the Duotine pills in his pocket. Thank god Remor isn’t around or that could have gone very wrong, very fast.</p><p> </p><p>He leaves one pot from each flower in each room. Hopefully the notice-me-nots he traded a bit of his blood for will stop the two living here from throwing them out in suspicion. He also hopes the other magic works alright.</p><p> </p><p>It isn’t guilt, he says to himself, just being a decent human being for a change.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Kensaku is touchy. Karma doesn’t like that.</p><p> </p><p>Living with Adelaida, with Demian, having spent three years at Oswald Asylum with Edgar (who he sincerely hopes is rotting somewhere in Apollo, because Senersedee is way too peaceful for that piece of trash) he is very particular about his personal space and physical contact. He can bear it and intrude into other people’s personal space if needed because honor doesn’t exist in battle and every resource should be taken advantage of. But outside of it? Yeah, no. He wants at least a meter of distance from any other living being in the area. Palontras excluded cause he is a fluffy ball of furry.</p><p> </p><p>Nagisa was never so touchy.</p><p> </p><p>And the whole point of this is to get past Nagisa so his brain better stop pulling comparisons, please, for fuck’s sake! He needs the shit in his head to cooperate for once in his life!</p><p> </p><p>So yeah, Kensaku is touchy but at least he only pats his head or grabs his shoulder or ruffles his hair.</p><p> </p><p>He can smile at that. Even dig his nails in to avoid the urge to punch the man. So what if his teeth hurt from how much he’s been grinding them the past few months? It’s fine. It’s bearable. He’s just being paranoid.</p><p> </p><p>Kensaku is walking with him in the hallway. The man grabs him by the shoulder and smiles.</p><p> </p><p>Karma does his best not to flinch. The man is not Itward, he’s not even Dr Deern, he hasn’t earned that right-</p><p> </p><p>He digs his nails into his palms. Hands safely hidden from sight inside his pockets. It’s official, he’s adopting this posture from now on. He’ll only buy clothes with pockets.</p><p> </p><p>The man pulls him a bit closer and Karma wonders for a second if he’ll ask him to accompany to his office and sit on his lap or request a kiss. The thought sounds distant and he feels a bit numb.</p><p> </p><p>Instead the man talks about how despite his violent behavior and issues with respecting authority he’s absolutely in the right during his fights. He even stops their walk and gives him a thumbs up.</p><p> </p><p>Karma has never particularly cared about being in the right. He’s a demon, and an unpredictable one at that. His actions have never come from a place of self-righteousness. He sees people doing shit, it get his blood boiling, he acts. Even he is aware there are other ways to stop people from doing shit than beating the proverbial shit out of them. He just doesn’t care enough to try other methods. Works as a way to push out his violence without feeling much guilt about it later on. It’s not that he’s in the right, it’s just that he gets angry. Nothing pretty there.</p><p> </p><p>It makes his skin itch, wanting to correct the teacher, but he appreciates the fact the man tries.</p><p> </p><p>Kensaku tells him “I’ll stand by you.”</p><p> </p><p>Karma smiles and tries his best to believe him.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>He sneaks into the apartment again, and sighs when he finds two lavenders missing (the dead leaves a very clear explanation on what happened) and the chamomiles on their way to death. Okay, so maybe he should have left a manual. Or some clues. Excuse him for thinking people had common sense!</p><p> </p><p>At least he came prepared, he replaces the lavenders and chamomiles (he’ll have to perform some miracles to revive them) with new, freshly potted ones, and leaves a gardening magazine on the table.</p><p> </p><p>He also takes some time to water the chrysanthemums. He’ll have to check weekly that the flowers aren’t dying due to bad care.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Summer vacations roll around. He drags out his suitcase and plans for the month he’ll stay at ho- the house where everyone lives. Hopefully his secret project will take the hint and he won’t return to find all the flowers at the apartment dead.</p><p> </p><p>Karma has never felt this relieved when thinking of England. And he’s never been so eager to leave Japan. The switch in sensations that the countries provoke makes him itchy.</p><p> </p><p>He tells Kensaku his parents are taking him to England for a summer vacation. All his friends agree that sharing things with people helps build trust. Except the twins, but that’s to be expected.</p><p> </p><p>Karma doesn’t feel very trusting. If anything, telling Kensaku even that fraction of the truth makes his stomach turn. It feels different somehow from the summersaults Nagisa inspired. He ignores it.</p><p> </p><p>Everything’s fine. Kensaku is very agreeable and wishes him luck on his vacation. The man smiles.</p><p> </p><p>That sense of discomfort stays with him the whole flight.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Karma!” Isabelle waves as soon as she notices him.</p><p> </p><p>She’s sitting on the lowest step of the porch, wearing a light pink dress and the biggest smile he ever sees on any of the kids, her happiness is contagious. He smiles back at her. It’s good to be back.</p><p> </p><p>“Long time no see!” He drops the suitcase and sits next to her while stretching “Been, what? Six, eight months?”</p><p> </p><p>“A year, because someone decided not to come on Christmas or spring break!” She shoves him and he goes along with the motion just to save her feelings. That shove was so weak it wouldn’t have moved a pinecone. Actually, they’d have started stabbing her hand. Adorable little assholes.</p><p> </p><p>“Such violent tendencies, have I taught you nothing?” He smirks and she snorts in a very unladylike manner. The twins must be rolling in their graves, or at least their corpses.</p><p> </p><p>“Hypocrite” fondness is written all over her face “How’s Japan?”</p><p> </p><p>A shrug, he doesn’t really want to talk about it.</p><p> </p><p>“Want to give the good doctor a lethal scare?” He offers instead, looking at his suitcase “Doesn’t know I’m here yet. I told him my plane arrived tomorrow.”</p><p> </p><p>Her smile starts showing teeth at that. Her eyes are a little more vicious. Karma almost feels bad for the man. Just a bit. Not enough to stop whatever nefarious plot Isabelle is cooking up.</p><p> </p><p>Ah, it’s wonderful to be back.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Dr Deern’s face when he arrives to see all his underwear proudly hanging from the rooftop, strung together in a rope-like decoration, is priceless. Karma manages to take a photo. He isn’t quick enough to snap a shot of the exact moment the man realizes the clothes have also been tinted a beautiful shade of fuchsia, but even Phil the-ever-stoic is snorting so it must have been pretty epic.</p><p> </p><p>Who was the idiot that said family bonding had to be boring?</p><p> </p><p>Probably Remor, though his version surely switched boring for traumatizing.</p><p> </p><p>He approaches the man, who looks like he’s about to have an aneurysm (but he doesn’t yell, he doesn’t give them bruises, Karma is always amazed by it) with a skip to his step and a smirk on his face.</p><p> </p><p>“Karma,” he sighs, like that one word is the answer to all his questions “should have known. Their pranks are not usually this elaborate.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, don’t give me so much credit.” He makes a side-eye glance at all the kids, leaning in various positions over the porch’s railing “The fuchsia was all Isabelle, and Demian was the one who came up with the idea to string them together with rope instead of just hanging them from the corners.”</p><p> </p><p>The doctor sags, rubbing his face and removing his glasses.</p><p> </p><p>“Look on the bright side doc.” He says with a wink, balancing on his toes with his hands behind his back “I managed to save your shirts. Victoria was ready to turn them into Adelaida’s newest canvas.”</p><p> </p><p>“Give me a few minutes and maybe I’ll find it in myself to be grateful.” Ha, and there’s the bite.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry too much, it’s just the underwear.” He takes the man’s bags and motions, so he’ll give him his coat “And I’ll take it down as soon as the kids are inside. Plus, the neighbors aren’t exactly outraged.”</p><p> </p><p>“No,” the man says tiredly “They’ve definitely seen worse.”</p><p> </p><p>“See? No harm done.” At the pointed look “Permanently at least.”</p><p> </p><p>Dr Deern looks him in the eye, frowning with suspicion. Karma turns around and herds the kids inside the house. He crosses eyes with Isabelle and Demian, silently communicating he needs some alone time with the doctor. They both nod, Isabelle with a smirk and Demian with a sigh, and usher the kids up the stairs with promises of candy that make Dr Deern choke on his spit.</p><p> </p><p>Philmore obviously isn’t convinced and glares at him, to which Karma sticks out his tongue and makes a <em>later </em>gesture. The boy huffs and crosses his arms but lets himself be guided upstairs. Victoria just shows him the finger as she skips up.</p><p> </p><p>Karma is so, so proud of her.</p><p> </p><p>He puts on the apron (a sickly yellow that they all agree is horrendous) and turns on the stove. If there’s one thing he’s good at when it comes to cooking, that’d be soup. He’ll have his kids salivating from the smell alone, just wait and see.</p><p> </p><p>“Any reason why you’re acting like the good, filial adoptee you are not?” The doctor asks, tone dry, from where he’s sitting at one of chairs in the kitchen “What do you want to soften me for?”</p><p> </p><p>“You technically never adopted me. And do I need a reason to be nice to you?” at that the man lets out a howl of laughter, hitting the poor table like that will let him breathe without snickering. That brilliant solution fails, obviously.</p><p> </p><p>Karma turns around and sticks out his tongue before proceeding with the dinner preparations.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Okay, so what’s up?” Isabelle corners him immediately after dinner, closing the door of the room they both share with Demian with a slam. He glares at her for the sudden noise. She shrugs and smirks as if she didn’t know how much he hates that.</p><p> </p><p>He looks around for any signs of Demian, but he doesn’t seem to be part of the ambush. He raises an eyebrow at her because no way she convinced the blond to stay out of this.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s tucking in Adelaida and Victoria.” She gives as an explanation, her eyes narrowed as she examines him “He’ll join as soon as he’s done, now spill. What did you say to the doctor?”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe I just wanted to catch up with good old Marcel without you all intimidating the man.”</p><p> </p><p>Isabelle rolls her eyes “He deserves all the crap we give him. Don’t think I can’t see you re-directing, what did you both discuss?”</p><p> </p><p>“Wait until Demian arrives, he’ll want to hear the news too.” He gives her a shit-eating grin when she huffs in exasperation and plops down to her bed. They don’t have to wait long, a head of blond hair peers through the door not five minutes after.</p><p> </p><p>“Did he spill or went the bullshit route?”</p><p> </p><p>“My, my, Demian…” He says, scandalized voice and dead face “What kind of king speaks in such foul language?”</p><p> </p><p>Demian sighs and runs a hand through his face, giving him a non-impressed stare “Bullshit route it is.”</p><p> </p><p>“Now, now. I was merely waiting for you.” He pats both sides of his bed to signal it’s okay to come close, and Isabelle immediately clings to him like an octopus. Demian shows more decorum, probably because he also hates being touched by anyone that isn’t part of their little family, and simply sits next to him, hand close enough he can reach for it if he wishes to.</p><p> </p><p>Karma sighs, taking some seconds to remember how to be so close to another human. All in all, Japan’s been pretty great. It’s exciting to finally put to use all those skills and traditions he and Hadley spent so long polishing inside the asylum in an effort not to forget their homeland (it’s also bittersweet, Hadley never managed to see Japan once more) and it’s a breath of fresh air when compared to England. But Japan is also a place where no one <em>knows </em>him, and he’s missed his family.</p><p> </p><p>Nagisa was the person who managed to get the closest to him in Japan, and he’d still been nowhere near this level of intimacy he casually shares with Isabelle, Demian, and all the other kids at the house. Perhaps even Dr Deern, good old Marcel.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m staying the whole month.” He whispers, like it’s a secret and not something he and the doctor fought over in the kitchen some hours ago. The man had relented but warned about possible relapses. Karma tries not to feel guilty about how concerned he’d looked.</p><p> </p><p>He’ll get him some new anti-anxiety spells from the twins.</p><p> </p><p>“Wait, what?!” Isabelle pulls back and whisper-shouts, staring at him with so much joy he can’t bring himself to regret his decision. Even Demian stares perplexed, grabbing his hand with strength, and squeezing in confused intervals. “Not just two weeks? The whole month?”</p><p> </p><p>Karma nods and respects Isabelle by looking elsewhere as she cries.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Phil corners him the next day, early in the morning while he’s alone in the kitchen to make everybody a surprise breakfast.</p><p> </p><p>“So, you’re staying the whole month?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not polite to eavesdrop on your siblings Philmore~”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut up, as if anyone actually follows that rule in this house.” Well, Dr Deern might, he’s respectable and honorable like that. Phil locks eyes with him and frowns “Will you be okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course I will, and I needed a breather from Japan either way.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why? Though you loved the stupid place.” Ah, there it is. Seems like Phil was still somewhat bitter over his departure.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, it’s cool.” Lying to Phil is useless, best to say things straight “But it doesn't have you guys.”</p><p> </p><p>Phil hums, and silently takes some eggs out of the fridge to help make breakfast. Karma says nothing but smiles warmly at him. Phil could be downright cruel at times, but they’d always understood each other in some ways others didn’t. It’s good to have him around.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>He hates admitting Dr Deern is right on anything. As much as he’s come to like and respect the man over the years, a part of him is still that surly kid on the green sofa that absolutely loathed the psychiatrist and his stupid questions. At least now he understands the man was trying to help, the rest of the kids remain unrepentant bitter little shits when it come to that. Dr Deern seems to have accepted this as well, even if Karma will never understand why he puts up with any of them, himself included. The man could be doing so much better.</p><p> </p><p>So yeah, he hates admitting Dr Deern is right but… Dr Deern is right. Shit.</p><p> </p><p>Nothing happens the first few days. He helps with the chores. He plays with the kids. He paints with Adelaida, helps Victoria practice with her skateboard, listens to Annie as she tells him some interesting facts she read on a book. He sits down with Robert and they eat popcorn while watching a documentary. He goes around town with Jason, watching the silent boy feed all kinds of strays and keeping potential bullies away with a look. He play-fights with Phil (away from Dr Deern’s careful eyes) and tells him stories of assholes he’s beat up.</p><p> </p><p>Isabelle and Demian sit every night next to him, holding him close as he breathes. They talk about everything, from Isabelle’s fashion interests to Demian’s discoveries when he goes out to sightsee near the forest. They’re both younger than him by just some months, but he holds them close and tries to reassure them the way an adult would, the way his mother hummed and calmed him.</p><p> </p><p>Sometimes he’ll hear Hadley’s voice. He tries to ignore it.</p><p> </p><p>He tries to alleviate a bit of the doctor’s burden by helping him out at the clinic. Some of the townspeople ask him about how he’s been and if he’s moving back in. He just gives them a close-eyed smile.</p><p> </p><p>It’s not until Monday on the second week that his nightmares worsen.</p><p> </p><p>To be clear, he’s always had nightmares. Even as a six-year-old in a warm and loving home, he’d had nightmares about white endless rooms and needles and hands grabbing him forcefully. He can’t remember a time when his sleep was peaceful business. After his parents' death the nightmares had shifted to him locked in a room and slowly drowning on the dripping blood that filled it. After…</p><p> </p><p>Well, his nightmares are familiar. He’s used to them and the way they come and go. He’d thought when he settled in with the kids and Dr Deern almost three years ago that they would lessen. Boy had he been wrong.</p><p> </p><p>And now history is repeating itself. His nightmares spike on Monday night and they don’t settle down after that. He wakes up every night to a dark room, gasping and jumping at every noise. His roommates try to reassure him, but their voices only make him think he’s back at the asylum. Isabelle stops touching him because his breath always quickens, and he wants to get on his knees to apologize for that fact. Demian looks at him with haunted, knowing eyes.</p><p> </p><p>The lack of sleep has him struggling to gather enough energy to keep up with the kids. He’s banned from the kitchen at the beginning of the third week, when he burns himself while trying to cook in a semi-asleep state. The weather doesn’t help, the lack of sun making him anxious.</p><p> </p><p>He also starts losing his appetite. He tries not to let that stop him from eating but he feels so full after just a few bites and when he tries to eat more, he ends up vomiting in the bathroom. Sometimes he’ll smell the food and find that it is not food, just burnt flesh in charcoal colors while his water is blood and no amount of sugar can sweeten it.</p><p> </p><p>Lack of sleep and lack of proper food lead to a lack of energy. His lack of energy leads to him spending more time sitting by the window and he knows it’s getting bad when he starts losing track of time once again. At least this time his mind isn’t stuck in the Ultrarreality when he drifts off.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry for telling you to come back.” Phil whispers one evening, scared and so vulnerable it hurts, because Phil hates being anything else than angry or stoic. “Go back to Japan, go back before you die.”</p><p> </p><p>Karma tries to explain that won’t happen, but Phil won’t stop trembling and the only thing he can do is hug him as he sniffles.</p><p> </p><p>It's frustrating and he doesn’t know why. He’s doing his best not to think of any bad experiences, he’s trying his fucking best to stay in the here and now. His siblings are wonderful and he’s so happy to be spending time with them again, but there’s always that badly disguised concern in their eyes whenever he asks them to repeat what they said or asks for the time. Argh, he hates his head.</p><p> </p><p>“I told you,” says Dr Deern, the day before he has to go back to Japan. They´re all outside and having a picnic in a kind of farewell event, none of them will meet his eyes and it’s suffocating “No matter how much you may like us, this isn’t the place for you Karma.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then where?” and he isn’t begging but he’s also drained, and his eyes burn just a bit “Where do I fucking belong doctor? If it isn’t with you, with those that know me, then where?”</p><p> </p><p>The doctor can’t give him an answer. The next day he packs his things, says bye to the kids, and boards his plane.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>He tries harder with Kensaku. Desperate, now, to find a place to belong. A place that puts his mind at ease and that he can’t stain with presence. Palontras fusses, Itward worries, and Remor stays as silent as he’s been since he cut off ties with Nagisa. He avoids Mabuka and the twins, not sure he can deal with their madness without tipping over the edge in the state he’s in.</p><p> </p><p>He ignores every signal and red flag and every warning his brain blares. The fucker is the reason he split from Nagisa, that he can’t even spend a month with his siblings without having a breakdown. He viciously shoves all his doubts aside. He needs this. He needs some stability. His brain needs to shut up and stop making a fuss about everything.</p><p> </p><p>Christmas break rolls around, and Dr Deern is reluctant to have him come over, he says fine, hangs up, and smashes the phone against the wall while screaming. It’s freezing when he goes get a new one at the store. He spends his birthday in bed with the covers over his head.</p><p> </p><p>He gets into more fights, now actively scouring the city in search of assholes to beat up. It’s better than trashing his house that is too empty and too silent. The rumors about him increase, too. Now there’s even talk about him having killed someone and escaped from juvie.</p><p> </p><p>Ha, if only the idiots knew.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>He still goes check the department weekly. No flowers have died recently, but some have been used to make teas or oils from what he sees. He replaces them with new ones and wonders if perhaps the notice-me-nots are no longer necessary.</p><p> </p><p>It’d sure be nice not to give more blood to the twins.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Kensaku seems to avoid him. He tries harder once more.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I need this.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He studies hard and aces his final semester mid-terms. Kensaku smiles at him again.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>A third year is beating up a 3-E student. Worthless piece of scum, he calls him as he kicks the other’s stomach. The third-year laughs and laughs, and nobody does anything to stop him.</p><p> </p><p>Karma’s blood boils. He cracks his knuckles and approaches.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“I’m not saving you anymore Akabane.”</p><p> </p><p>The worst thing is, somewhere deep down he always knew.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>So much grief, so much rage, I knew leaving you alone for some time would be well worth the wait. What now, Karma Dagenhart? Why don’t you let me take care of this one?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Ah, so that’s what the old goat had been doing all this time. Should have known. Always a fan of his mind games, that coward. Remor chuckles.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Perhaps, but you can’t deny I’m useful. Let me help you Karma~</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Fuck it, he’s sick of everything anyway. Kensaku should know better than to provoke an insane demon, shouldn’t he? This is on him.</p><p> </p><p>He accepts, on one condition.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Don’t harm him.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Why? Your boring morals?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Tch. I can’t afford the attention a murder or lawsuit would bring to me. Dr Deern and the kids would be in danger if people looked at me too closely. Scare him shitless, but don’t harm him.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>3-E huh? Petty son of a bitch, only sending him down now. They all know that with his violent behavior he should have been there from the start, but the world will allow anything as long as you play by the correct rules. Karma knows it well. If he’s going to die, at least he’ll go out with a bang.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>They suspend him. He laughs in their faces when they complain about his parents not showing up to the meeting. He laughs even harder when they say he needs to tell them about his suspension.</p><p> </p><p>He refuses to speak with Itward. The skeleton is the one that planted the idea in his head about trust and lowering your guard and all that sappy useless shit. Karma should have ignored him.</p><p> </p><p>Didn’t he know already? Trusting people is a mistake.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t go visit for Spring break.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>He finally visits Mabuka and even if she has no arms, she welcomes him with warmth. He talks for hours about all the fights he got in and describes in detail the feeling of smashing his fist against their faces. The sweet crack of their noses and the incredible way their teeth broke. He even speaks about That Night and all the most forbidden feelings it brings him.</p><p> </p><p>Mabuka hums in approval and agrees to let him stay for a day.</p><p> </p><p>He thanks her and prepares himself. He’s never stayed longer than an hour inside her den. From what Leon Castillo described, staying longer would be an experience. But he needs to know, he needs to see. If not the Second and not the Third, perhaps he belongs in the Fifth?</p><p> </p><p>It's awful, once the two hours mark passes, everything starts burning. He feels he’s being flayed alive, and the stench of rotting flesh is all he can smell. His tongue is heavy, his eyes burn, and he tries to scratch at them with his nails. Suddenly he hears voices, violent and screaming, despairing, and begging, he crawls into a corner and covers his ears, but the voices don’t go away. He squishes his eyes shut to stop seeing the way blood drips into the den. Drip, drip, drip.</p><p> </p><p>He soon feels it reach his feet, but he can’t open his eyes and if he stops covering his ears, he’s sure he’ll die, but the blood keeps dripping and the puddle keeps growing and it’s starting to reach his knees so he stands up as he can. It’s not enough, it keeps rising and rising, and he’s burning but also feels sticky and everything hurts, and the blood keeps rising and he’s going to drown…</p><p> </p><p>“Enough, child.” Mabuka’s voice is stern. He could even mistake it for compassion, but he knows her too well for that. Her tone is disappointed “There’s too much Light in you, Keeper. Apollo is not your place.”</p><p> </p><p>He’d cry, but to be honest, he’s just relieved it’s over. The place where his heart should be feels hollow.</p><p> </p><p>He tries to speak, but his throat is on fire. Had he been screaming? Mabuka sighs and bids him farewell. He doesn’t know if he says goodbye to her.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The moon gets blown up into a permanent crescent.</p><p> </p><p>Karma would care more if he wasn’t busy reacquainting himself with the presence of Remor. Freaking Ultrarreality.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Did I just make Karma try to overcome his trauma only to be brutally beaten down? Yes, yes I did. I DO need to give Korosensei something to work on with the problem child. Also, I imagine that after everything that happened, Dr Deern would be much more flexible/tolerant to kind of make up for the fact he didn't notice or turned a blind eye to all the abuse that the kids suffered at Oswald Asylum. Thanks everyone that gave kudos, bookmarked and commented! I'll go hide in the corner again.</p><p>(As always, Karma being mildly in character is what worries me more. At least next chapter we enter canon timeline!)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Introducing: The Wonderful Wizard of Oz</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>So, your homeroom teacher is an unkillable yellow octopus with mass murdering tendencies?<br/>So, your PE teacher is a government agent that expects you to murder said homeroom teacher?<br/>So, your classmates are strangely cheery, bright-eyed teens that think they can stomach murder?<br/>So, your former best friend/crush is also there and part of the whole murderous carnival?</p><p>Karma would strongly like to turn in his resignation letter regarding life, thank you very much.</p><p>(Alternate Title: Karma’s Guidebook to Not Being Driven Insane -Oh Wait That Already Happened)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There are different kinds of exhaustion.</p><p> </p><p>Exhaustion due to overexerting your physical capabilities, exhaustion due to strong emotions being felt in a row without room for a break, exhaustion due to a lack of food or sleep…</p><p> </p><p>There is also a type of exhaustion that is more discreet than the rest. Taking it’s time to crawl over your whole body, seeping into your bones inch by painstaking inch. Dragging itself through your bloodstream and entering your heart in a careful, quiet manner. Burrowing deep inside and laying there relaxed, content to spend the rest of eternity in such a nice, bloody place.</p><p> </p><p>Karma is unsure of when, exactly, this exhaustion started making itself at home.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe when he was still somewhat innocent, in the way he dragged his feet to school and back from it, in the motion of his body as it sagged upon his desk from all the stares and whispers and pointed fingers, in the reflection of one kid’s scared eyes when they bumped in the hallway, in the laughter of the older kids when he growled and bared his teeth as they pressed his body to the concrete, in the lonely contemplation in front of the mirror, in the fright his parents hid from him.</p><p> </p><p>Or maybe, it started in Oswald Asylum? Three years of locked doors and nightmares. Of sitting in a sickening green couch and relieving the horror again and again while being asked questions and never getting answers. Of getting hushed and shushed and ignored unless he failed to follow orders. Of Edgar leering whenever he walked past him, of his lingering touches and whispered obscenities. Of withering slowly but surely, hidden, no, forgotten by the world. Of hoping and losing hope.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe it really started after That Night, thought. After the fires had been extinguished, and the dead had been left to properly rot in their respective graves. After the answers he had been so desperately searching for had revealed themselves in all their grotesque glory. After they had all run into the night, aware that there was no rest for the wicked (and to the world that had abandoned them, forgotten them, they were indeed wicked creatures) unless it was in captivity. After he had settled down in a little town, in The House, only to find that love, understanding, and endless patience wasn’t enough to fix what had been broken inside his mind.</p><p> </p><p>Perhaps, he ponders, laying in the carpeted floor of the living room, it started during those six years that are missing from his life. Festering, growing with each of those following incidents. Perhaps.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Seems like you’re in quite the pensive and melancholic mood, Karma Dagenhart.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Karma sighs. He rolls onto his stomach and glares at the vast nothing in the room, shrouded in darkness. His body feels too heavy to actually stand up and shout like he usually does in private.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>It seems like you’re incapable of starting a conversation without adding Dagenhart to it, Remor.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Aren’t you a Dagenhart? Doesn’t that curse blood run in your veins? Furthermore, no one will refer to you with that last name ever again. The last of your maternal legacy, vanished. I thought you’d appreciate my constant use of it, but if you dislike it so much, I can always do the same as others and switch it for Akabane.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Karma flinches for a split second, stilling his muscles before forcing them to relax. Remor cackles.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Thought so, Dagenhart.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Karma loathes Remor, that’s a fact he doubts will ever change. He despises the Prince of Darkness with every fiber of his being. Still, locking himself inside the house for the month his suspension has taken place, it’s a bit inevitable to have constant talk with the goat. Going out just feels tiring.</p><p> </p><p>The exhaustion is worsening.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It’s just another day of staring at the ceiling and ignoring his stomach grumbling when someone knocks at the door. He scratches his neck and wonders if they’ll leave in some minutes. They continue knocking and he yawns, closing his eyes and readying himself for another four-hour nap.</p><p> </p><p>“Mister Akabane Karma?”</p><p> </p><p>Tch. Bothersome people. He buries his face underneath the pillow to muffle the noise. As it increases, he takes the blanket and also covers himself with it. <em>Just go away assholes.</em></p><p> </p><p>“Ministry of Defense, please open the door.”</p><p> </p><p>That has him opening his eyes, kicking off the covers, and reaching for the drawer in a mix between jump and run. Perhaps he should start considering the possibility of keeping a knife under his pillow, like a paranoid psycho. He’s already a psycho by pretty much everyone’s standards, but is it paranoia if they’re really out to get you? Besides, he twists and turns in his sleep so maybe keeping a knife in bed wouldn’t be the safest option if he wants to keep all his fingers-</p><p> </p><p>“We know there’s someone inside! Open the door!”</p><p> </p><p>Shit. Not the time to ruminate on the merits of bed knives. He’s got two in hand now, and, where the fuck did he leave the pistol? Crap. He really needs to start running emergency drills for this kind of situation. How many of them are there? Have they surrounded the house? Of course they have surrounded the house, they wouldn’t leave any chances for their precious lab rat to escape. Shit.</p><p> </p><p>“Mister Akabane, if you do not open, we’ll break the door!”</p><p> </p><p>Fuck, if they got to him, does that mean they’ve got the doctor and the kids? He scrambles to unlock his phone as his eyes dart to the window. He hurries to draw the curtain. Shitty snipers, have they got those? His breath quickens and he sticks to the wall as he eyes the message app. No unknown messages. The doctor would have warned him if they had been captured. But maybe he just hadn’t had time? What if they were already tied up in an underground lab and the doctor’s corpse was rotting somewhere in The House?</p><p> </p><p>Too many unknowns. He needs to calm down. In. Out. Calm. The. Fuck. Down.</p><p> </p><p>Okay, okay. Worst case scenario, there’s always the Ultrarreality. Toss of a coin if his physical body will actually disappear into it with his mind, cause the rules of the game are random as heck. Ugh, he’s got better chances if Remor isn’t the one dragging him there and if he has…</p><p> </p><p>Aha. He takes the box from beneath his bed and opens the fake aspirin bottles. Shiny red pills of Duotine greet him. He slips one of the tiny bottles inside the right pocket of his trousers and pushes the whole box back underneath his bed. At least that has been taken care of.</p><p> </p><p>What he needs to find out though, is how much the agents know and if the Oswald escapees have still got the upper hand. Now how to do that?</p><p> </p><p>A really stupid idea enters his head.</p><p> </p><p>An idea so stupid it would kill Dr Deern.</p><p> </p><p>But Dr Deern isn’t here, so…</p><p> </p><p>“Akabane Karma! We’ll open the door in 5!”</p><p> </p><p>Ah fuck. Whatever. No risk, no fun. He opens his bedroom door and decides that jumping from the first floor to the second floor is the best way to avoid losing time in the stairs. Phil must be onto something when he says Karma is actually dumb as fuck because his right ankle protests very audibly as soon as he lands. Probably strained. Definitely not his smartest decision. He blames the stress.</p><p> </p><p>“4!”</p><p> </p><p>Pricks. They could have at least started at 10.</p><p> </p><p>“3!”</p><p> </p><p>Seriously where were the keys? He remembers tossing them somewhere by the entrance hallway but, well, he wasn’t the most stable after the suspension meeting. Hell knows where his less conventional self though it was appropriate to throw them. Hopefully not in the Ultrarreality side of the house. If he has to sink his hands into the disgustingly soft and squishy intestines of another dead animal, he’s going to be so pissed at himself.</p><p> </p><p>“2!”</p><p> </p><p>Ah, there! Next to the terrarium. Thank whatever benevolent entities existed out there. He rushes as much as he can with a limp towards the door. He must make a pretty funny sight.</p><p> </p><p>(Phil would be snickering at him. Isabelle would just outright laugh, tears in her eyes and holding her stomach. Annie, bless her pure soul, would worry, and give him magical pills to feel better. Jason would be silent as always but later on offer to help bandage the ankle. Demian would pretend he hadn’t snorted and cross his arms while complaining that one of his knights would be so foolish.</p><p> </p><p>Victoria would smirk and trip him. Robert would either not get it or lose interest in the scene. Adelaida would frown and be the only one to actually help him walk. Dr Deern would just sit back in the sofa, amused and silently giving off ‘I told you so’ vibes.)</p><p> </p><p>(And they could all be either dead or locked up so now wasn’t the time to wonder.)</p><p> </p><p>He inserts the key inside the keyhole and turns.</p><p> </p><p>“1!”</p><p> </p><p>“Woah wait!” he pushes the door just as one of the agents raises a leg to kick it open.</p><p> </p><p>The agent stares at him. He stares at the raised leg. It’s awkward.</p><p> </p><p>The agent coughs and lowers his leg “Akabane Karma?”</p><p> </p><p>He leans against the door, one arm hidden from view, and slips the knife in his sleeve against his hand. “And what if I am? What does the Ministry of Defense want? I don’t think I’ve killed anyone important enough for you to come knocking at my door.”</p><p> </p><p>He smirks and the agent frowns, adjusting his tie in a bothered motion. Good to know that at least he’s still one scary motherfucker. It’s the eyes, he knows, most people are unnerved by them.</p><p> </p><p>The female agent takes one step forward and Karma turns to give her a closed-eye smile, to hide the way he flinches. He also raises his chin to examine them in an amused, condescending manner. This helps scan the area discreetly, if he causes a ruckus with people nearby, they could have a more difficult time attempting to cover up the kidnapping of a teenager.</p><p> </p><p>Damn, there’s no one. Creepy gits must have been surveilling the neighborhood for at least a week to know the dead hours and days where no one but the isolated target was at home. Karma tries to ease his nervousness by playing quietly with the knife behind his back. Had he done anything particularly suspicious? Aside from talking to what could have appeared to be himself. If they’re here, then they know he’s been clinically diagnosed as psychotic already so no surprises there.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m afraid that the information is classified.” All stiff shoulders that lady, she could at least try to gently coax him into accompanying them. Not that any amount of honey would make him believe them but, she could try “You’ll have to accompany us towards a more secure location-”</p><p> </p><p>“You expect me to accompany a bunch of strangers that claim to be government to a random location?” He laughs, and it’s mocking. Their eyes narrow, just a fraction but Karma notices. It’s the two of them, and the driver of the van. The people he can see, but how many unseens? Numbers, numbers. It all comes down to that, he muses.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s regarding your current demotion to class 3-E from Kunugigaoka Junior High School.” Her shoulders raise a bit and she speaks as if the words are being dragged out of her “And the obliteration of 70% of the moon.”</p><p> </p><p>His eyes widen. He almost loses grip of the knife but manages to catch it in the last second. They aren’t here for him? Well, not here to drag him into a lab?</p><p> </p><p>The permanently crescent moon. He’d forgotten about that. How do you forget about the moon being blown up? Remor must have been really vicious this last month for him to be so distracted.</p><p> </p><p>(Because if it wasn’t Remor then it was just him slipping and fuck no.)</p><p> </p><p>“Wait,” the last part had distracted him from the first one. Now it’s his turn to narrow his eyes “What does the destruction of the moon have to do with me being in 3-E?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s confidential.” She says. Viciousness sneaking into her tone “If you wish to know more then you’ll have to accompany us.”</p><p> </p><p>It could be a trap. Honestly speaking, it most likely is. Still, they’ve peaked his attention, and the probability of them having the kids is low, given that they haven’t even tried to make him comply by using them as hostages. They’d at least have made subtle threats with how he’s been riling them up.</p><p> </p><p>Curiosity killed the cat…</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>But satisfaction brought it back.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He slips the knife back up his sleeve and stops leaning on the door. He smiles at them with his eyes closed again and tilts his head to the side. It’s rare when he agrees with Remor.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay then.” He gestures to the vehicle “Lead the way.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>They sit him down at a purple couch and explain how a yellow octopus blew up the moon and that in one year, Earth will be just as KABOOM. He demands proof. They give it to him.</p><p> </p><p>Denial is not just a river in Egypt, but Karma dines with ghosts and visits other realms. Once they show him the videos, he believes them. He’s pondering how to tell the kids they have a year to live when they drop the last of the baggage.</p><p> </p><p>Class 3-E has been turned into the assassination classroom. They expect him and a bunch of middle schoolers to kill a monster that no country government or alliance has come even close to touching.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Adults really don’t give a shit about kids, do they?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Oh ho, simmering rage. Keep it up, Keeper.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He snorts at the offending pun and the female agent’s hands spasm where she’s folded them in front of her. He’d feel bad for her, but she and her partner are the ones sending a group of kids to play assassins near a dangerous individual so to hell with compassion. Yeah, the greater good and all that. What’s a classroom compared to the whole world? It’s always easier to aim when you’re not the one shooting. Fucking cowards.</p><p> </p><p>Really, the only benefit from the whole meeting ends up being the guarantee of zero repercussions when he kills the yellow octopus. The murderous asshole wants to play teacher, eh? Wants to play with some kids, manipulate them into liking him, and then killing them all. Ha, too bad for him.</p><p> </p><p>Karma’s sick of adults. Karma’s sick of teachers.</p><p> </p><p>Offered the opportunity to end one of those shits, zero consequences and a million yen as reward, who is he to refuse? This had all the potential to be a fun way to kill time.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>His suspension ends soon after that wonderful chat.</p><p> </p><p>He debates whether to arrive early or just skip some classes and decides on skipping. It’ll tick of the monster more. He stands from bed late, yawns, and sleepily drags himself downstairs. He enters the kitchen still in pajamas and yawns again, before readying the stove and getting out the two remaining eggs from the refrigerator. He needs to go buy pretty much everything. Serves himself some milk to go with his eggs and starts making breakfast. Remor doesn’t decide to spam him with gore so he doesn’t lose his appetite and actually eats for once. It’s a slow morning.</p><p> </p><p>Once he’s about to leave the house, he sees a box of strawberry milk and shrugs. Why not? He takes it with him.</p><p> </p><p>He arrives at school and groans when seeing the gigantic stupid mountain that he needs to climb. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. Time to put all his training from visiting The Great Wizard at Mount Kotrem to use. He even hums his usual melody as he starts ascending. <em>We’re off to meet the Wizard, the wonderful Wizard of Oz~</em></p><p> </p><p>Well, if he looks at it from another point of view, the Wizard of Oz was said to be extremely powerful and perform miracles. The monster has what would be considered superhuman abilities and there’s no doubt he’s powerful.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Didn’t the wizard in that tale turn out be fraud, Dagenhart?</em>
</p><p> </p><p><em>Yes</em> Karma’s lips widen into a nasty smile <em>and so will this one. I’ll bring him down; I’ll bring him down and expose his teaching and invulnerability to be mere curtains.</em></p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Karma though he had accounted for everything. He hadn’t accounted for Nagisa.</p><p> </p><p>Wonderful. Great. Just what he needs in this situation.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>(He hopes the flowers helped.)</strike>
</p><p> </p><p>They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. Karma regrets to inform that is true, because the second he and Nagisa lock eyes with each other, nostalgia along with those other ugly, useless things called feelings punch him in the gut. Hard. The wind even blows dramatically and all that shit.</p><p> </p><p>There’s a lot more people staring, though. Unlike Nagisa’s, those gazes are familiar and unlikable enough, no time to freeze up. The show must go on, he guesses.</p><p> </p><p>“Nagisa, sup?” Like hell he’ll show weakness. Like hell he’ll let the Blueberry know any of what he’s feeling. His voice is causal, and he’s got the higher ground “It’s been a while…”</p><p> </p><p>A while is severely downplaying how long they haven’t said a word to each other but whatever. Semantics.</p><p> </p><p>Nagisa doesn’t bother to hide his emotions, his eyes are wide and shocked, and his mouth is slightly open “Karma,” a pause, as if searching for the right words “you’re back?”</p><p> </p><p>So that’s what he settles on? Eh, diplomatic enough. Nagisa was always quite cautious.</p><p> </p><p>He gives the boy a closed eyed smile. Just for him he lowers the usual aggressiveness he fills that gesture with. That’s it. He’ll give the Blueberry nothing more. He breaks their staring contest to look around and finds the yellow that sticks out like a sore thumb in the peaceful setting.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh hey,” he goes down the stairs in a hurry, brushing past Nagisa and the black-haired boy he’s with “that must be the notorious Koro-sensei!”</p><p> </p><p>It’d been quite the surprise when he’d heard about it. The kids (not his kids, they would never be so stupid) had already named the thing. Indeed, they had warmed up to the creature. Fools.</p><p> </p><p>At least they’ve got good instincts. All his new classmates seem to be frozen up, sweat running down their faces. Two thirds exercise, one third fear. He passes between them without effort even as he feels their stares pinned on his back. How funny, that in such a bizarre occasion there’d be so many familiar things. He stops in front of his new teacher, posture relaxed and one hand in his pocket.</p><p> </p><p>“Wow, he really does look like an octopus…” there’s another government agent in the field. Crap, they’ve stationed one at the school? He’ll need to be more careful than he thought. Just testing the waters for today it seems, and he’ll limit his own abilities. Government stay far away.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, mister Akabane, correct?” The octopus says, voice irritatingly calm even when he’s hours late.</p><p> </p><p>Karma does his best not to grit his teeth at the way the monster speaks so fake-nice to him.</p><p> </p><p>“I understand your suspension ends today. Welcome back.” a yellow tentacle raises in mockery of a finger, eerie smile stuck like a drawing “That said, tardiness is a no-no.”</p><p> </p><p>The creature goes purple with a cross going through both his eyes and mouth. Karma has to wonder why he’s dressed like a graduate if he’s a teacher. He lets out a nervous laugh and closes his eyes. The picture of a regretful student. Dr Deern would have already called bullshit on his act.</p><p> </p><p>He spouts some nonsense about needing time to remember the schedule and asks that he calls him by first name. He doesn’t think he can stand being called Akabane by a being that seems to belong more to the less savory side of his life. The teacher and him exchange meaningless pleasantries and finally, he extends a tentacle to shake hands. Perfect opening, he can’t believe no one has used it.</p><p> </p><p>Aren’t useless social traditions just wonderful?</p><p> </p><p>He squeezes the tentacle and relishes in the sound it makes as it pops. Karma is delighted to find there’s no blood or flesh or bones or any of those messy repulsive things hiding underneath. Killing the teacher looks more and more appealing by the second. Perhaps there won’t even be a corpse left? He holds back a giggle at that thought. No grave to remember in his nightmares.</p><p> </p><p>He follows through with the attack by throwing his finished strawberry milk into the air and slipping the wobbly knife into his hand with practiced ease. The octopus seems shocked, so he jumps forward with a very telegraphed slash and letting just a bit of his bloodlust bleed into his face.</p><p> </p><p>The yellow monstrosity seems to finally get it that if he doesn’t move aside, he’ll get stabbed and jumps at least a meter away. Karma barely gets a blur of movement before the dust kicks off from behind him. So he truly is that fast… Fascinating.</p><p> </p><p>If he asks the twins for poison, could they give him something to slow the teach down?</p><p> </p><p>Thoughts for later. Right now, he does what he does best. Karma riles him up, being the condescending little shit people know he is. The encounter has filled him with adrenaline. He does his best not to look as wild and feral as he feels at the moment.</p><p> </p><p>He gets inside the monster’s personal space, thrilled by the danger he knows is right in front of him. And oh, is he in danger. The octopus has turned a passionate red, veins pulsating and body trembling from the suppressed rage and killing intent that Karma knows is hidden beneath that goody-two shoes act. He’s aware most would be afraid to go this far, avoid outright angering this powerful being. He’s aware most would fear for their families and lives.</p><p> </p><p>Karma hasn’t been afraid of dying for a long time now, not like this, and this monster has no idea who his family are. If it’s only his life on the line, Karma is happy to gamble it. Checkmate.</p><p> </p><p>Plus, there are lines even Koro-sensei can’t cross. Lines drawn in the sand by the octopus himself when he accepted to work at Kunugigaoka and planned to play the nice teacher to the rejects. So what’ll happen first, will the teacher snap and drop the façade by breaking his neck? Or will Karma manage to watch his soul wither away and make him beg for the sweet release of death?</p><p> </p><p>Koro-sensei has threatened his kids after all, and Karma has never been especially merciful.</p><p> </p><p>As he walks away from his target, his classmates rushing to get out of the way, he smiles to himself and thinks that Mabuka would be proud. Perhaps he’ll visit on Friday?</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>He’s at the station and there are some assholes harassing Nagisa.</p><p> </p><p>He shouldn’t interfere, right? Nagisa is a big red flag with danger written all over it. He’d agreed with himself to stay the fuck away. For both their sake’s. So why is he picking up a bottle and smashing it against a pillar?</p><p> </p><p>At times like these he understands why Dr Deern pulls his hair every time they meet.</p><p> </p><p>Too late for regrets, might as well follow up with his act. Hadn’t he heard something about Nagisa having some notes? There, perfect excuse! He threatens the 3-D assholes with some cliché lines, and they run crying to their mothers. What a bunch of crybabies. He’s got a nice anecdote for the twins to laugh over next time they have tea party. Could even earn him early desserts.</p><p> </p><p>As always, when he turns around Nagisa isn’t staring at him with fear, rather, with the caution of someone that has been ignored for a whole year. Why? Why is he never afraid? Why can’t Nagisa stare at him like the rest of the world does? It’d make Karma’s life easier.</p><p> </p><p>It’s not like he’s forgotten how easy it was to talk to Nagisa, but it still comes off as a bit of a surprise when the other willingly play along with him. He even smiles a little.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Stop giving me chances I don’t deserve Nagisa.</em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The next day he arrives at school with a dead octopus and a real knife. Though, to be fair, knives have always been hidden in his sleeves. It’s just that now the knife is bigger, and everyone sees it too.</p><p> </p><p>They flinch and stay away. As good little sheep should unless they want to be swallowed by the big bad wolf. Not that he’d actually harm them, but they don’t need to know that, do they?</p><p> </p><p>Karma Akabane is an insane demon. Everyone knows it and that’s all he’ll ever show them.</p><p> </p><p>He’s surprised when after pinning the dead animal with a knife (he’s way too used to dead animals by now, it’s not even funny) in the middle of Koro-sensei’s desk he turns around to find that there’s some anger in their gazes when they stare at him, too. They look away very quickly, of course, yet the mere fact they even mustered the courage to feel angered instead of just cowering in fear is more than he ever thought he’d get from people not Nagisa or his kids/Dr Deern.</p><p> </p><p>Perhaps he’s been misjudging them.</p><p> </p><p>Whatever the case, as he sits in his desk, he can feel some level of hostility in the air, and it’s aimed at him. He smirks at them in challenger. They don’t trust him, they don’t like him, and even if afraid their teeth are pressed together.</p><p> </p><p>If only this courage didn’t come from their affection for the octopus. Brainwashed sheep.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Koro-sensei flips the tables.</p><p> </p><p>He takes an approach that doesn’t let Karma do as he pleases but that doesn’t ruin his position as a teacher either. Humiliation. It’s so typical Karma would consider it boring if not for the super speed.</p><p> </p><p>Still, it’s effective. His classmates privately think he needs to be taken down a peg, so every time he ends up with his nails painted or wearing an apron or eating a pastry, they snicker. Karma grits his teeth and clenches his fists and tries his best not to growl at them like an animal.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>(<em>“Look at him,” he growled at the other boys while one shoved his face against the concrete “growling like a dog! Be careful not to let the oni escape!”)</em></strike>
</p><p> </p><p>He shoves a ball of takoyaki into his mouth while the whole classroom stares, giving the excuse Karma appears to always miss breakfast. He forces him to eat one takoyaki every time he tries to shoot him, and then scolds him for missing ‘the most important meal of the world’.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Shut up, see how your fucking appetite is after sitting next to the rotting corpse of a little girl in the mornings.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>The whole class snickers. He hides his hands in his pockets and tries not to think of other objects that have been shoved into his mouth throughout the years. He needs to think, he needs to get out.</p><p> </p><p>The octopus never stops smiling.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The alien fucker paints his nails. He slides his slimy tentacles all over his hands and paints them and it’s a mockery and the only people who are allowed to ‘beauty him up’ are Isabelle and Adelaida.</p><p>He wants to wash his hands until they feel raw and he can forget a teacher dragged their limbs all over them. It doesn’t help that Remor starts messing with his sense of touch.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <strike>(“I think you’d look pretty in a pink apron,” a purr and a hand sliding down, down, down, <strong>dow</strong></strike>
  </em>
  <strong>
    <em>n- </em>
  </strong>
  <em>
    <strike>“So, what do you think Fran? Should I get you one for next time?”)</strike>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Every time he ends up being taken care of -and how he loathes the way the stupid octopus phrases it, as if he needed the help, as if what he’s doing is beneficial to Karma- he resists flinching. The thought of the creature touching him and sliding his tentacles all over him makes him want to vomit.</p><p> </p><p>And now Karma is the one with lines he can’t cross because the government agent -Karasuma- is lurking so he can’t pull any Ultrarreality tricks or go for the actual kill because that’d pull a lot of attention on him from the government and the last thing he needs is the government paying close attention to what he does or where he goes or who he talks to.</p><p> </p><p>The hours continue passing by and Koro-sensei continues to touch him, and his classmates continue staring and snickering and they see nothing wrong with what’s going on because why would they and even Remor has decided to break their truce on no-school-interruptions so he’s starting to hear the drip drip drip of blood as it splashes in the floor and the smell is nauseating and-</p><p> </p><p>The bell signaling recess rings and Karma doesn’t run out the classroom just because he’s too prideful for that kind of thing.</p><p> </p><p>He’s not too prideful, however, to hide behind a bush and pull at his hair as he takes deep breaths and remembers nothing is really burning. He feels erratic, and that’s always dangerous. He can’t afford to slip up, not with so much vigilance around the place and so much at stake. The kids, the kids need to be safe and they won’t be if the government goes digging around his background and sees where he’s been flying at during summer. Fuck. He needs to calm down.</p><p> </p><p>He really misses his kids. Why hadn’t he gone to visit during Spring break? Now he won’t even be able to visit on summer vacations because of the surveillance and he isn’t even sure if it’s safe to call them from the house. Furthermore, if the octopus doesn’t die by March, he’ll never see them again. Ah, fuck, why does he always make this kind of mistakes?</p><p> </p><p>He can’t even loose his shit in peace because the octopus could be creeping around. Shit.</p><p> </p><p>He feels exhausted again.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Classes finish and by this point he’s high strung and skittish. He wants to be left alone but Nagisa doesn’t seem to get the memo cause he follows him until the very cliff of the mountain.</p><p> </p><p>Blueberry is sprouting some nonsense about him not doing it solo and relying on his classmates and Koro-sensei not being like other teachers. All sappy bullshit that Karma knows is useless, but everyone seems to want to drill into his head. What for? He wonders.</p><p> </p><p>The Oswald Asylum staff, the world, Elizabeth, Nagisa, Kensaku.</p><p> </p><p>All expecting him to see their sweet smiles, believe their lies and drop off a cliff in their names as a sacrifice when he was no longer of any use to them.</p><p> </p><p>Drop off a cliff…</p><p> </p><p>Koro-sensei shows up. All smug and wriggly and ready to touch Karma everywhere and cover it up as teaching. Fuck the monster. He’s going to murder him right here, right now.</p><p> </p><p>“You consider yourself a teacher above all else?” he asks.</p><p> </p><p>Koro-sensei says yes.</p><p> </p><p>“And you wouldn’t think twice about putting your life in the line for a student?” he asks.</p><p> </p><p>Koro-sensei says yes.</p><p> </p><p>Karma feels tempted to ask him if he’d stand by him, but he already knows he won’t believe the monster even if he says yes, so it’d be a waste of time. He pulls out his hidden pistol and aims.</p><p> </p><p>This isn’t an itherstanite cliff, but it’ll do.</p><p> </p><p>London bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down. London bridge is falling down, my fair lady…</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Remember that Karma was in suspension when the Ministry informed class 3-E about Koro-sensei? And that Karma first appears at a place called Ministry of Defense in the anime? Ever wonder how they even dragged him over there? No? Me neither!</p><p>Ufff!!! This was a difficult chapter to write. I can't help this fear that everyone is horribly out of character... Not much action or interactions but I swear this is the last of the set-up before we dive into how this Karma changes and interacts with the Ass Class. As always thanks for the support and I love you all!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Cheshire Cat</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Isn’t it scary, what a smile can hide?<br/>Isn’t it frightful, what we’re willing to let slide?</p><p>Karma talks to one Wizard, one Glinda, and one Dorothy. Leaving one intrigued and the others floundering.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Once again, allusions and discussion of sexual harassment are made. Karma also mentions sexual attempts with underage characters in a rather nasty attempt to unsettle Koro-sensei. Nothing too bad, but giving a warning just in case.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Karma is smiling.</p><p> </p><p>It’s a bit hard to maintain his posture as gravity yanks him down, but he manages. He’s got a pistol, he’s got some hidden knives, and even if this whole plan was just one big impulsive decision, he’s pretty satisfied. It’s got enough of a dramatic flair to fit his style.</p><p> </p><p>Here’s to hoping Nagisa isn’t the kind of stupid idiot that dives from a cliff after another person, though. The kid’s eyes had been widening back there, his body moving some milliseconds before Karma even fell. Nagisa’s senses and intuition are as a sharp as always, it seems.</p><p> </p><p>Scary little snake-mouse.</p><p> </p><p>Karma can attest, through the multiple times he’s been seconds away from dying, that the whole crap about your life flashing before your eyes is true. He can also attest, as a connoisseur, that once you’ve experienced it more than three times it starts getting a bit boring.</p><p> </p><p>(Ha. Lies. It just starts getting more intense.)</p><p> </p><p>As such, he prefers to let his mind drift. Wonder about other topics such as why time always slows down when you’re in danger. It’s a useful thing if you’re searching for ways to survive, but honestly such a bother at times like this. Karma’s eager to hear the splat, the sick crunch of his bones breaking and his head cracking. The wait isn’t sweet in Pandora as it would have been in Ithersta.</p><p> </p><p>People are always mesmerized by his looks. Will they still praise them when the rest of his body is twisted and mangled and dyed the same color of his hair? Will they look at that and say beautiful?</p><p> </p><p>A bitter taste starts filling his mouth, but he keeps smiling.</p><p> </p><p>He should know by now that overthinking in these situations always leaves him feeling somewhat sour. Victoria always emphasizes he should stop letting his Kamala feed on him so often, but Karma’s always been bad at driving that nasty thing away.</p><p> </p><p>It’s a bit sad he couldn’t say bye to his kids and Dr Deern.</p><p> </p><p>They’ll be fine, he hopes. This way there’s less probabilities of an accidental leak, so they’ll be safer. Until March when they all die because Koro-sensei is obviously not saving him, and he doubts any of the brainwashed sheep can manage to pull the trigger. Ah fuck. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to remove himself from the board so early in the game. Whatever. Too bad, no way to get out of this one now. Stop overthinking. In any case he’ll see them at Senersedee.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Can you truly not save yourself, Karma Dagenhart? Pathetic.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Aaaaaaaaand now Remor is also bitching. Great.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Shut up you pretentious goat freak, seemed like a good plan at the time.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>You mean, five seconds ago Dagenhart? When you decided suicide was the most logical way to kill an unkillable being? I was under the impression you were intelligent.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>First, Mabuka is unkillable, the octopus is only difficult. Second, woah it’s only been five seconds?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>And counting.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Dying is so slow. Wouldn’t mind if this was Ithersta, but look at that grey sky, no wonder I’m getting so moody while falling down…</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Many would attribute that to the fact you’re about to die, rather than the setting, which brings me back to my original question, the plan is futile, and your death is meaningless. Why not save yourself? Are you that incompetent and helpless?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Karma rolls his eyes, not dropping the smile even if his cheeks are starting to hurt a little.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Which ordinary middle school kid is capable of surviving this fall without a parachute or something like that? If I die via suicide they’ll momentarily wonder if I had issues, then brush it under the proverbial rug. If I survive everyone will want to know how, and the last thing I want is the government interested in me. I’ve told you about this before, I was under the impression you were intelligent.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Remor huffs at the comeback and goes silent. Thank fuck. On the bright side, he’s about to smash his brain beyond salvation. The thing governments and scientists alike have been searching for as the equivalent to the holy grail, and he’s about to utterly destroy it. One last middle finger to the whole of Pandora, with love from Karma.</p><p> </p><p>Damn, this is the longest he’s taken dying. By now, normally he finds a solution or gets saved-</p><p> </p><p>There’s a yellow blur above him and his eyes widen. He’s that dedicated to this deception. His smile sharpens and he adjusts his grip on the pistol. Mach 20 is faster than anyone can see, but if he pulls an Ultrarreality time-stop several times he could theoretically take the time to angle and reload each time. Oh ho, the monster won’t know what hit him.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Let’s do this Koro-sensei! Your need to play nice with your victims will be your downfall.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>But the blur doesn’t come near, instead, faster than Karma can blink he finds himself bouncing in a sticky yellow net. Like a fly caught on a spider’s net. His breath quickens. But where’s the spider?</p><p> </p><p>“Well done!” Speaking of the spider and is that an impressed undertone he detects on the teacher’s voice? “A splendidly premeditated assassination attempt, full marks!”</p><p> </p><p>Okay, what the fuck?</p><p> </p><p>The octopus goes on a tangent about how he knew Karma would die if just straight out plucked from freefall at Mach 20 (which, all things considered, would have been better for the plan. Killing a student would violate his contract and get those brainwashed sheep out from under his watch. Dammit.) and that he couldn’t move any slower, and yada yada, blah blah blah.</p><p> </p><p>“What a tangled and sticky web we weave, eh?” Karma can picture the way his eyebrows would wiggle if the monster had eyebrows. A groan leaves his mouth at the offending joke.</p><p> </p><p>“Not another freaking Remor.” He mumbles, trying in vain to remove his arms from the yellow net. It’s useless. “Is there anything these tentacles aren’t capable of?”</p><p> </p><p>The monster laughs in place of an answer and Karma frowns. Asshole.</p><p> </p><p>“Can’t shoot me now, can you?”</p><p> </p><p>“If I really wanted to, I could get out of these.” Though he’d need to know if in the Ultrarreality he was still trapped. And his arms weren’t available to reach for the pills inside his pockets to pull his physical body into it. And he would be unable to explain after how he’d teleported.</p><p> </p><p>Shit. The monster has him in checkmate.</p><p> </p><p>“Sure.” Even with a motionless face, the smugness coming off the octopus is clear as day. He isn’t the least affected, watching as Karma bears his teeth and growls like a caged animal.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, and for future reference.” Karma doesn’t want to look at him, he wants out. He isn’t dead and the octopus is still breathing so that whole shitshow was a freaking failure. He wants to be left alone and he wants to lick all his wounds from the day in peace. “Students do not die on my watch. Ever.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure.” He snorts and smiles at him with eyes closed.</p><p> </p><p>“Whether you want to believe it or not, Karma. That’s the truth.” The net retracts and Karma lands on his ass in a very ungraceful manner. The twins would be disgusted “Take that to heart for the next time you jump.”</p><p> </p><p>And it’s not intentional. It’s not something planned. Karma lifts his head and gazes into those tiny white eyes. He expects to find that usual smugness, perhaps a hint of a threat to not try that shit again. His chest aches and he looks away. Damn his stupid pathetic heart. Damn his stupid naïve head. Damn his stupid fickle emotions, swaying from hate to hope so fast. Damn his stupid ability to connect with people, even when he fends them off and does his best to beat his empathy to death daily.</p><p> </p><p>As much as he wants to deny it, in those eyes he only finds warmth.</p><p> </p><p>It hurts. Kensaku had never looked at him that way, only with a thread of fear and a greediness Karma had done his best to ignore. That gaze reminds him of Itward, of Palontras, of Dr Deern. A softness to those eyes that he also finds in Nagisa. It hurts because it can’t be real.</p><p> </p><p>Karma reigns in the urge to curl into himself.</p><p> </p><p>He feels small once again.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The octopus could fly them up the mountain in a flash. Instead, he flies up to tell Nagisa everything is okay and comes back down to accompany Karma in his trek to go back up the mountain by foot.</p><p> </p><p>“Penance for endangering your life and scaring Nagisa.” The teacher says with a nrufufufu.</p><p> </p><p>Karma sends him one nasty look and starts walking. Fuck this mountain. Fuck this trek. Fuck Koro-sensei. He takes back any positive thoughts about the monster. Asshole. Zero redeeming qualities.</p><p> </p><p>“Why do I get the feeling your thoughts about me are less than charitable?” said asshole says from behind and Karma stills for a second before turning his head and glaring.</p><p> </p><p>“Hehehe, no smack-talk from you now, Karma?” He makes funny sounds as he walks, that octopus. He’s a reluctant to admit it, but he’s impressed by the fact the teacher’s willing to walk up the mountain with him, too. If the punishment is for Karma then there is no need for the octopus to suffer through it as well “I must say I’m quite disappointed.”</p><p> </p><p>“You like getting insulted teach? Kinky.” He walks backwards, facing Koro-sensei with a grin and a wink “No judgment, but I’ll have to decline. Nothing personal, I just don’t lean towards mollusks.”</p><p> </p><p>Somehow multiple sweat drops form on the other’s head and Koro-sensei lets out a kind of strangled mix between scream and screech. “That’s not! That’s not what I meant at all and you know it Karma!”</p><p> </p><p>“Do I?” Payback time. He puts on his best innocent face and looks the teacher in the eye “Did you mean to say I’m too ugly to even consider, is that what you meant?”</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Koro-sensei squeaks “No!”</p><p> </p><p>“Then you do consider me attractive enough to date?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes! I mean, NO!” Oh god, is the octopus blushing? “Stop it Karma!”</p><p> </p><p>“Stop what?” He bats his eyelashes.</p><p> </p><p>“Tha-that!” A tentacle points accusingly at his face and Karma laughs.</p><p> </p><p>The teacher seems at times cartoonish. Before, it enraged him, convinced it was part of the harmless front he put up to make the brainwashed sheep like him. In a way, it probably works like that, but now Karma associates it less with nefarious ulterior motives and more with how Victoria will be dramatic at times. Now, he allows himself to be amused by these exaggerated reactions.</p><p> </p><p>“No worries teach.” He turns to face the front once more “Like I said, you’re not my type.”</p><p> </p><p>“Perhaps I should feel insulted by that comment, I’ll choose to be relieved.” Koro-sensei hurries his pace and stops to walk beside him “It’d be troublesome finding how to reject your affections without being too harsh.”</p><p> </p><p>“Is it because I’m not a cute girl?” He closes his eyes and says teasingly.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s because you’re a student.” Koro-sensei emphasizes “And much younger than me.”</p><p> </p><p>Karma hums “Are you saying that if a busty teenage girl came to you all blushing and sweet, you seriously wouldn’t take her on a date? Just once. You know, reach second base? She’d let you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Karma-”</p><p> </p><p>“Come on. No need to lie and say you wouldn’t enjoy having someone like Kanzaki begging for you. Or perhaps Maehara, he’s quite the pretty boy. You weak for blonds?”</p><p> </p><p>They don’t stop walking and Koro-sensei’s face doesn’t change. Still, the air is denser somehow. As if a heavy atmosphere has settled around them. Figures the pervert would be embarrassed to talk about his preferences now.</p><p> </p><p>“Is that the image you have of me?” His voice carries that same serious undertone from when he said no student would die on his watch, plus a hint of sadness. Karma doesn’t know what the last one’s for.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t see the issue teach; you’ve been feeling me up all day. Plus, aren’t you a huge perv from what the girls say?” Karma opens his eyes and shows a bit more teeth in his smile “She’d be reluctant at first, the girl, but if you insisted enough times and added some sweet talk she’d surely let you touch her breasts and fondle them, even moan-”</p><p> </p><p>“Stop it Karma.” The teacher’s voice is grim, his unnatural grin reducing.</p><p> </p><p>“Why?” His eyes narrow but his smile doesn’t falter.</p><p> </p><p>“I see what you’re doing and let me tell you, I have at no point thought of any of your classmates in that manner. Nor will I ever think of them that way. It’d be disrespectful towards all of you, and if one of my students came at me with those intentions I’d reject them immediately.”</p><p> </p><p>“Because of your contract?”</p><p> </p><p>“Because you’re kids and anyone my age coming at you with those intentions should be locked up.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re saying that to appease me.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m saying it because it’s the truth.” Koro-sensei nears a tentacle to rest it on his shoulder and Karma tries to cover his flinch. The octopus retracts it immediately “I understand if you do not believe me, I’ll just have to prove it with my actions.”</p><p> </p><p>Karma is about to roll his eyes when the octopus gets in front of him and bows.</p><p> </p><p>“What are you doing?” his eyes go round, and he hisses, deeply uncomfortable with someone like Koro-sensei bowing to him willingly. What the fuck is this for?</p><p> </p><p>“Apologizing. Today I used methods that while understandable from my point of view, did not consider how touch-averse you were. This harmed and damaged the already bad mental image you had of me, unsettling you to the point you jumped off a cliff. I should have considered how you reacted every time I touched you instead of ignoring it because it worked to keep you in line. For that and any other circumstance in which I have made you feel threatened from anything else than my destruction of the Earth, I apologize.” If it’s possible, the teacher bows even further “My classroom should be a place where you feel safe. I have failed at making it that way for you, but I promise I shall never take advantage in those ways and I won’t let anyone else do so either.”</p><p> </p><p><em>A little bit too late to protect me teach.</em> His face is red, he’s sure of it. Even if he has no mirror, the sheer heat he emits is enough to tell “I didn’t jump because of that. Nagisa gave me the idea.”</p><p> </p><p>A second passes. His cheeks get redder and he resists the itch to facepalm. The fuck did he just say?</p><p> </p><p>“Not that he told me to jump or anything! He was trying to convince me to cooperate, and something he said gave me the idea.” He’s quick to explain. Please raise your head and stop fucking bowing is what he really wants to say. The only adult in his life that has ever apologized to him is Dr Deern, and at that time they had known each other a lot longer than two days.</p><p> </p><p>“Still, you’ve taught me something new today Karma. Thank you for the lesson, as crude and unsavory as it was.” Fucking finally the teacher raises his head and stands straight again “I hope we can move forward from this incident and have a good student-teacher relationship.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, whatever.” Karma averts his eyes and grumbles. “Let’s just forget this whole conversation. Didn’t really mean to turn it so serious, I just…”</p><p> </p><p>“Saw an opening and took it?” Koro-sensei seems interested.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.” He sighs “Gotta remind myself this isn’t a battle.”</p><p> </p><p>“Isn’t it?” The teacher inquires, curious “Some would say any method, no matter how immoral, would be justified in the pursuit of killing me. You seem to share this mindset.”</p><p> </p><p>“Honor is for fools that don’t care enough about their own armies.” Karma agrees “But I’ve also got to be aware of all extra factors. For now, I’m interested in you, so I’ll take a backseat and remain an observer.”</p><p> </p><p>“Such hubris,” the teacher shakes his head “Shouldn’t you give this your all to save Earth?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh teach.” Karma smiles at him, eyes closed “If I had no fear of my leash and actively thirsted for your blood, you’d already be dead, or wishing to be.”</p><p> </p><p>The teacher laughs, and Karma lets him think that what he just said is a joke. A surprising amount of time has elapsed during their little talk and now he can see in the distance the old campus. He didn’t even have time to sing his usual tune on the way up.</p><p> </p><p>A random thought comes to mind.</p><p> </p><p>“Huh,” he says, surprised “Maybe you truly are the Wizard of Oz. Just not in the way I thought.”</p><p> </p><p>Koro-sensei sweats again “Don’t tell me this is another one of your insults.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, no.” Karma laughs good-naturedly, or the closest he can ever get to that “This is an actual concern of mine. The Wizard of Oz granted wishes but turned out to just be a man hiding behind a curtain, after all.”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you afraid I’m deceiving you?”</p><p> </p><p>“I know you are.” Karma says in a duh voice “The question is on what matter and for what motive. That’d determine whether you’re the Wizard of Oz from the 1939 film, Gregory Maguire’s version, or the recent Disney remake. For your sake, I hope it’s the Disney one.”</p><p> </p><p>“And what would be the difference between all of those?” The teacher asks in a wobbly voice.</p><p> </p><p>Karma smirks at him in lieu of an answer, hiding his hands in his pockets. The pills are tempting him to find out at this moment, and yet… He can’t bring himself to cross that line now.</p><p> </p><p>“It would be so easy to know, but I’ll observe instead and wait for time to tell.”</p><p> </p><p>“Seems like I’m starting to grow on you.” Says the teacher in a smug tone.</p><p> </p><p>“Tch, yeah. Like poisonous fungus.” Koro-sensei freezes and starts whimpering.</p><p> </p><p>He laughs once more and runs ahead of the teacher, waving to a standing Nagisa that has got to have been waiting at least half an hour for them. Bless the blueberry’s soul. If it was Karma he would have already left.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Koro-sensei accompanies both him and Nagisa until they reach the doors of the old campus so they can pick up their stuff, then says something about going to China and flies away. That damn octopus.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t get it. How were you so calm the whole time?” Nagisa asks while entering the classroom.</p><p> </p><p>“Huh, about what?” His eyes are resting on the marks he’d drawn on his desk with his personal knife. What can he say? He was bored during math and tried drawing Itward. He grimaces, yep, drawing is not his forte.</p><p> </p><p>Nagisa groans “What do you mean what? Diving off a cliff!”</p><p> </p><p>“Eh, no big deal.” He waves a hand and takes the straps of his bag “Though you’d ask about something more interesting. That’s boring, Nagisa.”</p><p> </p><p>“Your definition of boring is very different from mine.” Blueberry deadpans “Besides, how did you know Koro-sensei would save you? You’ve known him two days and you weren’t exactly nice to him.”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t.” He says, “To be honest, I thought he’d let me die.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then what was your backup plan?” Nagisa has taken his own bag and is now examining him with a narrowed gaze, skeptical “Have you got a parachute under that jacket or something?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nope.” He emphasizes the ‘p’ with a grin “If he hadn’t caught me how he did, I’d be the human version of smashed eggs. I don’t think anyone would like to eat me, though…”</p><p> </p><p>Nagisa’s eyes widen, as if he hadn’t considered, even for a second, the possibility that Karma had been ready and willing to die. What an innocent snake-mouse. Had he really not thought about it, or just been unwilling to believe it? Karma’s smile widens.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, what’s that face for? No risk no reward!” He walks to the hallway and looks back at the frozen Nagisa “Are you going to stand there forever like an idiot?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not the one who jumped off a mountain without a backup plan!” Nagisa throws at him, pink dusting his cheeks in embarrassment. He hurries to get out of the classroom “What kind of idiot does that, huh!”</p><p> </p><p>“At least that was my own plan. I was not blindly following the orders of a thug.” He points out, remembering when they had debriefed him on all the previous attempts to murder the teacher and how he should proceed with caution should he attempt anything like that because the octopus could get volatile. How angry he’d been at Terasaka at the time. Prick should be grateful he had time to cool off after that, otherwise things might have gotten ugly during their first meeting.</p><p> </p><p>Nagisa winces at the reminder of his own suicidal attempt “Thinking about it, success or not you died in every scenario. My chances of dying were much lower than yours.”</p><p> </p><p>“But they were there.” Karma says calmly. Doing what he does best, deflecting like a pro “Spin it how you want, you were also ready to die.”</p><p> </p><p>Nagisa doesn’t reply, and Karma wonders if perhaps he went too far. This isn’t like with Koro-sensei, where he was attacking weak point after weak point. Here he’s just stating facts. Karma forgets at times not everybody likes to hear those in such a blunt manner. Not even himself.</p><p> </p><p>“…what were you thinking about?” Nagisa asks, voice low and eyes covered by his hair “As you fell, I mean. What were you thinking as you realized you would die?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing. Everything.” He says in an amused tone, but then he looks at Nagisa, shoulders still raised, eyes still hidden, and sighs “I wondered if anyone would still dare to say my hair is beautiful, after I was splattered on the ground and covered in those colors.”</p><p> </p><p>Nagisa raises his head and looks at him with those terrible beautiful blue eyes. Once more, Karma can’t determine what he’s thinking. Such a dangerous creature, he should stay away. But Karma is weak, and his resistance is wavering. He misses Nagisa in the same way he misses all the things he’s lost and mourned. The difference is that Nagisa stands in front of him made of flesh and bone, not ash, nostalgia and nightmares, and Karma is so, so weak for this precious boy of blue hair and eyes that could very well be his downfall.</p><p> </p><p>Is this how Elizabeth had loved Dr. Harrison?</p><p> </p><p>He’s shaken from that endless spiral when Nagisa tilts his head, hums, and says, “How morbid.”</p><p> </p><p>Their eyes are still locked together, Karma feels unable to pull away from that gaze so he can only reply, a bit helpless “What else did you expect? You already know me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do I?”</p><p> </p><p>And what can Karma possibly say to that?</p><p> </p><p>There’s silence but it’s not uncomfortable. Karma had never known how easy it was to lose yourself in another person’s eyes until he met Nagisa. It’s like galaxies are hidden inside, endless possibilities, secrets and words that are never said. Karma wants to know them all. The problem is that to know another they must know you. The terrifying ordeal of being known. He’s not sure he’s ready for that.</p><p> </p><p>“Mister Akabane?” Two simple words and the connection is lost. Nagisa and him are blinking, rapidly looking away from each other and staring at the wooden floor. They are experts by now in hiding from others how alarmingly close they can be. Erasing any traces of deeper emotions.</p><p> </p><p>Karma mourns. It’s nothing new.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re the PE teacher right?” He turns with a practiced smirk and a warning in his eyes “Do you prefer professor or just Karasuma?”</p><p> </p><p>He’s going to call him the option he doesn’t choose, of course. For now, the professor stands in front of them in the hallway, blocking the exit. All polished suit and stiff posture. Man, these government people sure don’t know a thing about at least pretending to be at ease. Party-poopers, all of them.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m here to warn you about skipping PE class, for the sake of this mission, the government has determined such classes to be necessary if you are to have any hope of killing your target.” Smart man, dodging his trap. Troublesome, this would be easier if they had sent some meathead.</p><p> </p><p>He raises both hands in a mock sign of surrender “Consider me warned.”</p><p> </p><p>Karma lowers his hands and starts walking towards the door, Nagisa following behind. The blueberry is stiff, probably feeling the thick tension in the air, manufactured single-handedly by Karma.</p><p> </p><p>Step. Step. Step. They near Karasuma.</p><p> </p><p>He steps on one of the wooden boards he’d noted earlier, one of the many that creaks when adding weight to it. In the utter silence they had, the floorboard might as well roar. Karasuma unconsciously shifts his attention in that direction</p><p> </p><p>Karma slips his real knife into his hand and aims to the teacher’s neck in one quick motion. Karasuma blocks his arm and reaches to grab it but he squirrels his way out by feinting a punch with his other hand. It’s an old trick so Karasuma only moves back for a second, enough for Karma to switch their positions and jump to safety. Now he’s the one nearest to the exit.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh yeah, you’re definitely a Glinda.” He smiles once more, sure now that Karasuma won’t attack unless provoked “Don’t worry teach, it’s fun to play with you.”</p><p> </p><p>Nagisa seems to be trying his best to become one with the background, so he jumps a bit when Karma calls out to him. His cheeks go pink again and he turns to the government agent in an apologetic bow. Why’s he got to be such a nice snake-mouse?</p><p> </p><p>“I’m so sorry Professor Karasuma, I don’t know what came over him-”</p><p> </p><p>“Nagisa, don’t apologize for me!”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, what else am I supposed to do!” Nagisa turns his head and screeches “You almost stabbed our PE teacher!”</p><p> </p><p>“Aw come on!” Karma whines “That wasn’t even close, I was just testing the waters.”</p><p> </p><p>“Was calling him Glinda part of it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, if the octopus is the Wizard of Oz, then Karasuma has got to be Glinda.”</p><p> </p><p>“How did you even reach that conclusion?”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s a very powerful but ultimately useless character in the overall story.” Karma says, in the same tone one uses for talking about the Earth being round and the sun being hot. Nagisa facepalms.</p><p> </p><p>“I’d forgotten how much of an asshole you could be.” The bluenette mumbles even as he walks to the exit with him, sending one last apologetic look towards Karasuma as they leave.</p><p> </p><p>“You hurt my heart Nagisa.”</p><p> </p><p>“Didn’t know you had one.”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you implying I’m not human?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not implying it, I’m saying it. Whatever you are, it isn’t human.”</p><p> </p><p>“That hurt right here, in the void where my non-existent heart should be.” He winks and Nagisa laughs and yeah, Karma has missed this, alright.</p><p> </p><p>Nagisa has more friends and multiple mysterious teachers to focus his attention on, perhaps now it won’t be such a dangerous thing to talk? Perhaps…</p><p> </p><p>“By the way, if Koro-sensei is the Wizard of Oz, and Professor Karasuma is Glinda,” Nagisa says “then who are we, the students?”</p><p> </p><p>“Thought it was rude to call people by those names?” Karma evades with a smirk.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not calling them like that, I’m just mentioning how you call them.” Nagisa says, impatient “Now stop stalling and spill.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine. Youth is so impatient these days.” Nagisa rolls his eyes, Karma clears his throat “You’re all a bunch of naïve Dorothys, following the yellow path set by the government. Though your black-haired friend might be a Toto, think if you ruffle his hair he’ll wag his tail?”</p><p> </p><p>“Karma!”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not going to apologize for that one and you know it.” Karma looks ahead, Nagisa sighs.</p><p> </p><p>They lapse into another comfortable silence. The sun is setting, and Karma feels surprisingly at ease. Of course Nagisa has to use his creepy perception skills to ruin the moment.</p><p> </p><p>“You said <em>you’re</em> all a bunch,” Nagisa frowns “that implies you aren’t including yourself with us.”</p><p> </p><p>“Weren’t you the one who said I’m not human?” Scary little snake-mouse, reading between the lines so easily.</p><p> </p><p>“Then what are you?” Nagisa says in a dry voice “The Wicked Witch of the West?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nah, that’s a position for someone else to fill.” Karma considers the question for some seconds as they walk in silence “I’m more the Cheshire Cat, confusing little Alices and saying cryptic things.”</p><p> </p><p>Nagisa raises one eyebrow “Isn’t that character from a completely different story?”</p><p> </p><p>The wind blows around them, and Remor is chuckling in his ear. Karma looks at his surroundings, the crimson air that dyes the horizon, the luciferns he sees tangled on a faraway tree. Thinks of the metallic taste in his mouth, the smell he can never get fully rid of. He blinks a couple times to erase the Ultrarreality from his sight. Nagisa is still waiting for an answer.</p><p> </p><p>Karma smiles at him, just a twinge of bitterness coloring his voice “Exactly.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“I’ve got a problem.” He bites his bottom lip, trying to calm down with the fragrance of the flower bed he’s laying on “My teacher’s not terrible.”</p><p> </p><p>Palontras is laying beside him, his big eyes blinking with confusion. The healer isn’t needed by anyone at the moment, so they’re on a random floating island instead of the mainland or the healing fountain. It’s a nice little floating island. They should meet here more.</p><p> </p><p>“…I can’t say I see the issue.”</p><p> </p><p>“Curious, Itward reacted the same way when I said I felt relaxed around Nagisa.” Palontras narrows his eyes at the mention of Itward, and Karma regrets opening his big fat mouth.</p><p> </p><p>“Have you reconciled with him already?”</p><p> </p><p>Karma looks to the side and refuses to answer.</p><p> </p><p>“Karma…” and how can Palontras and his mother have the exact same pitch when they are about to scold him. Or were about to scold him, in his mother’s case.</p><p> </p><p>“I know, okay! I know!” He fixes his gaze on one of the flowers, a lily, and accidentally rips one of the petals while trying to touch it “Well, that’s depressing. Can you heal the flower?”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t try to distract me Karma. You know Itward only had good intentions, telling you to lower your guard with someone.” The fuzzy axolotl says, “You can’t hold what happened with that man against him.”</p><p> </p><p>“The road to hell is paved with good intentions.” He mutters, running a hand through his hair “By the way, if Senersedee is so peaceful and that’s the realm of Death, where the hell is hell? Does it even exist?”</p><p> </p><p>Palontras frowns and Karma sighs, exasperated and feeling just a tiny twinge of guilt “Okay, I won’t try to change the topic anymore, sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>The axolotl nods, satisfied.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not even mad at him anymore, honestly.” Karma confesses, rubbing the back of his neck “I mean, I was. Said as much to him when he tried to visit at home during my suspension, screamed some nasty things. I didn’t mean them.”</p><p> </p><p>He grimaces, remembering the heartbroken expression of the skeleton at Karma’s last remark. That second where Karma knew he had crossed a line but refused to apologize. Itward’s expression had closed off then, and faster than Karma could regret it, his friend had vanished. They hadn’t spoken since.</p><p> </p><p>“I wasn’t even angry at him, you know?” His voice is low, more a whisper than his normal, lazy drawl “Not really. I was angry at everything. Kensaku, the world, Elizabeth. I felt I was going to go insane from how much everything hurt, I even tried staying a day at Mabuka’s.”</p><p> </p><p>Palontras gasps.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking. Was desperate for a place to belong to, I guess. A place that would not try to hurt me anymore.” Karma chuckles, flashes of drowning in blood crossing his mind “So much for that, Mabuka kicked me out before I could go more nuts than I am. It didn’t even hurt at the moment, but as soon as I arrived at the house I broke down. And then, the day after that, Itward comes to visit. He comes with sweet words, as always, ready to comfort me and try to help in any way he can.”</p><p> </p><p>His eyes burn, he doesn’t allow himself to cry.</p><p> </p><p>“You weren’t ready for that.” Palontras hums as he runs his soft paws over his forehead “The wound was still fresh. His words made you angry?”</p><p> </p><p>“They made me more than angry, they made me livid.” Karma closes his eyes, letting the heat and softness of Palontras soothe the ache in his chest “How dare he say all would be okay? How dare he say I’d survive and that he’d help me? When he’d been the one to guide me down that burning path. Liar, liar. That’s what I thought. Lashed out, and you know me, I pack quite the punch. He left.”</p><p> </p><p>“So that’s how it went down,” The healer says in a contemplating voice “I was wondering why Itward looked so depressed after.”</p><p> </p><p>Karma sighs and crosses his arms over his eyes “How do I face him after what I said to him? Those weren’t light insults Palontras, they were daggers and I was fully aware of where I was aiming them.”</p><p> </p><p>“You apologize, Karma.” Palontras lightly takes his arms off his face to look him in the eye “The sooner you do it, the better.”</p><p> </p><p>“But what if he rejects my apology?” Karma’s breath starts quickening “What if he laughs at me? Or if he screams, or if he just stands there ignoring me? What if he doesn’t even turn around?”</p><p> </p><p>Palontras shushes him and offers his paw to grip tight.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s a risk you’ve got to take.” He says simply “Loathe as you may be to do it, the only way you can try to repair your bond is by lowering your guard. Being honest and apologizing, regardless of the consequences. That’s your duty as a friend. His job will be deciding if he accepts it or not.”</p><p> </p><p>“Is the solution to everything lowering my guard?” He says, annoyed.</p><p> </p><p>Palontras laughs “No, but it is key in any deep relationship.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine. I’ll try. Just, give me some days to gather my thoughts.”</p><p> </p><p>“As long as you need, but don’t postpone it because you’re afraid.”</p><p> </p><p>Karma looks him in the eye and doesn’t cross his fingers behind his back.</p><p> </p><p>“I promise.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The next day at lunch, Professor Karasuma’s things at the faculty lounge mysteriously turn a nice shade of fuchsia. As soon as he steps outside he gets covered in sparkles, too.</p><p> </p><p>“Toto, I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.” Karma says in passing to Sugino, who, along with the rest of the class, is staring at him in suspicion.</p><p> </p><p>Nagisa chokes on his water, waving away Kaede’s look of concern.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I can't believe I'm posting the 5th chapter on the 5th day of the month, happy new year?</p><p>There are authors out there who make character interactions and conversations flow so nicely and easily. I'm not one of them but I did my best this chapter! Also, someone save me, I don't know how to write romance! I'm not even sure if I did Nagisa or Koro-sensei justice, why does Ass Class got to have so many complex characters! Just realized IGYCS Karma doesn't put up an act, per se, but just shows like 5% of what he's thinking as a shield to cover the 95% left, using mostly the annoying/taunting/morbid bits of his personality. </p><p>Though I personally don't think in the original work Koro-sensei did anything bad when dealing with Karma, in this setting which includes Fran Bow, a game with characters who have suffered sexual abuse and suffer sexual harassment (that guard disgusted me, and I always hope he never did anything to any of the kids, my heart breaks thinking of any encounter he could have had with Adelaida or Demian) I did think it necessary to show how important it can be to respect a person's boundaries, and as a teacher, not ignore signs of discomfort like the ones Karma showed throughout the last chapter just because they're troublesome students. It was vital for getting Karma to trust him a little more that Koro-sensei realized how badly Karma viewed and reacted to those innocent touches, even if Karma himself said nothing about it. Because to IGYCS Karma, who has suffered sexual harrassment and to a point sexual abuse, someone older and in a position of power touching him so casually was setting off all kinds of alarms, but saying anything would be (in Karma's mindset) revealing a weakness that could be exploited and as such he preferred to apply the law of 'show no reaction and maybe they'll get bored and stop'. So yeah, that apology was needed even if Karma hated every second of it (he just isn't used to adults owning up to their mistakes, we're working on it, deep inside he was touched the octopus cared). And now Koro-sensei can grow from that experience and be on the lookout for those kind of signs on any of his other students, as well as reign in a bit of his touchy tendencies until he's sure the student isn't uncomfortable with them and just unwilling to voice it. Hope the message was transmitted well because this is a touchy subject.</p><p>Uffffff, serious stuff aside: Thank you all for the support! This story was actually going to be just some scenes in no particular order but somehow it grew a plot, and layers, and people actually liked this crazy idea of mine even if it's my first fic on ao3 and I'm not tyhat great of a writer. Thanks everybody that has read, given kudos, bookmarked and especially thanks to all who commented! You guys really give me motivation to continue this story that continues to grow beyond the simple plot bunny it once was! IGYCS continues because of you.</p><p>See you next week! Anyone would like to get POVs from other ass class characters?</p><p>Extras:</p><p>Me: trying to put actual thought into making wizard of oz comparisons<br/>Me: but who's nagisa???<br/>Me: ...you know what he 's dorothy and that's it</p><p>Me: rewatching the series to remeber characters quirks and personalities<br/>Me: it's for the fic, it's for the fic, it's for the fic-<br/>Me: realizes four episodes have passsed and zero notes have been taken<br/>Me: dammit</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Interlude: Flowers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nagisa wonders if fairies exist.</p><p>(And thinks about Karma.)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>WARNING: Due to reasons I discuss at the end of the chapter, I've heavily edited all existing chapters to better express what i wanted to say, fix some typos (still can't believe I had Nagisa saying he and Karma were in 2-D in chap 2, facepalm) and make some things flow at a better pace. No scenes were deleted, but some were added in between to add to the relationships Karma has with other characters, and I dropped some hints and foreshadowing for this chapter as well as for the future. While it is not necessary to understand this chapter, I do recommend a re-read to have a better experience! </p><p>That said, mentions of abuse and Nagisa's mother is her own warning. Take care ppl.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nagisa is a curious person.</p><p> </p><p>He enjoys observing the world around him and making his own conclusions about it. Experiencing things by himself and only then emitting an opinion. Maybe that’s why he’s never been one to believe urban myths or rumors.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>(Maybe that’s why he was never scared of Karma.)</strike>
</p><p> </p><p>He also enjoys analyzing people. They’re generally interesting if one bothers to take a look. Their mannerisms, how they live, the components that came together to make them who they <em>are</em>. He’s never been able to explain this fascination of his to others, at risk of sounding like a creep.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>(And if he understands what makes people tick, then he can avoid setting them off.)</strike>
</p><p> </p><p>Now if only that same eagerness to understand people and his surroundings transferred to his schoolwork, that’s be great. Oh boy, he’s been staring at his math homework for the past hour and a half, and it hasn’t come any closer to making more sense than it did before.</p><p> </p><p>(<strike>It doesn’t help every time he looks at it he remembers laying on the floor of Karma’s house as the redhead explained things to him in a lazy drawl and with an amused smirk.)</strike></p><p> </p><p>He hits his forehead against the table and looks at it again. Nope. Hitting his head didn’t work either. Who could have guessed that? He’s definitely going to fail math this semester.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <strike>(“Why can’t you be better? You aren’t even trying! You’re such a disappointment!”)</strike>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He shakes his head.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>No, I’ll ask Koro-sensei tomorrow. He can explain and then I’ll be prepared for the next time.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>There’s always that initial nervousness of approaching someone. What if he inconveniences the teacher? What if the teacher laughs at him? Nagisa has never been great at reaching out and asking for help. He struggles with it and doesn’t often consider the effort to be worth it.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <strike>(Nagisa didn’t have to ask Karma for help. He’d always offer first with a knowing smile.)</strike>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Still, Koro-sensei has proven himself so many times now. Always ready to offer a helping hand -or tentacle, in his particular case- always cheerful and yet gentle. Nagisa is not afraid to admit in the privacy of his own mind, that he is fond of his homeroom teacher. A teacher so ready to defend them and that cares so deeply about <em>him</em>, a nobody from class 3-E.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <strike>(He wishes Dad would defend him like that from Mom.)</strike>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>So, asking Koro-sensei for help with his math homework is not as difficult and anxiety-inducing as it would be to ask another person. Just with homework of course, other matters he can still solve by himself. No need to get others involved. That’s why he needs to apply some anti-inflammatory cream to the bruise on his arm. The others might misunderstand and try to ask questions.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>(<strike>They might realize how weak he is and abandon him.)</strike></em>
</p><p> </p><p>Homework problem solved; he turns in chair to examine his other, more mysterious problem.</p><p> </p><p>A lavender in a simple, brown pot meets his gaze.</p><p> </p><p>Nagisa is a curious person, but he thinks that even if he wasn’t, he’d still want to know who keeps breaking and entering into his apartment to deliver <em>flowers </em>of all things.</p><p> </p><p>The first time he arrived home to discover flowers in every room, he’d simply chalked it up to his mother wanting to change the décor. It had been weird, sure, because neither him nor his parents ever had a green thumb, but he knew better than to question his mother and get into an argument.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>(<strike>Seeing them brought Karma to the forefront of his mind. The other boy kneeling in his garden with no care for the dirt on his clothes and caring for his plants with a gentleness foreign to him if one didn’t pay as much attention as Nagisa did. The first flowers arrived shortly after their distancing and looking at them made something in Nagisa’s chest hurt.)</strike></em>
  <strike></strike>
</p><p> </p><p>So he didn’t pay them much mind, watching with a touch of sadness but mostly apathy as one of the lavenders withered and died. <em>I already have to take care of myself,</em> he’d thought to them as if in apology, <em>I don’t have the time to care for you too.</em></p><p> </p><p>That’s why he didn’t notice the change until the second lavender died and they had to throw it out.</p><p> </p><p>He’d been so busy with school, so busy trying the impossible to make his notes rise in some way to avoid falling into E class. So busy finding new ways to avoid being at home…</p><p> </p><p>(<em><strike>So busy trying not to think about Karma.)</strike></em></p><p> </p><p>That he failed to notice how calm his mother had been behaving.</p><p> </p><p>Until she was not.</p><p> </p><p>It’s not until new bruises are forming on his wrists and he’s sobbing in the bathroom with a pink dress and ruined mascara on his face, that he realizes how little he’d gone through this the past few weeks. How easily he had been able to doge his mothers attempts without it evolving into a fight.</p><p> </p><p>He’d scrambled his brain to think of any changes in their routine, anything he’d done right during those days and that he’d failed to repeat. His mental search had come up empty.</p><p> </p><p>The only noticeable change during those weeks had been… the flowers.</p><p> </p><p>At first he denied it. There was just no way. What could flowers even have to <em>do </em>with his mother’s improved and then declining mood? Yet the more he tried to deny, the more the pieces fit. His mother had been so calm and easy to deal with, until he’d let the flowers die.</p><p> </p><p>But there had been no change after the lavender withered, and there were still plenty of flowers, so had it been that only the lavenders possessed whatever it was that calmed his mother? Then he’d checked and found that almost all the chamomiles in the house were on their way to an early grave.</p><p> </p><p>Nagisa had panicked and ignored the part of his brain that kept saying he’d finally lost it.</p><p> </p><p>He’d rushed to buy new flowers the next day (lavenders, chamomiles, and chrysanthemums specifically) and hoped that’d be enough to get back those blissful weeks of calm. A slap to the face and another crying session in the bathroom answered that for him.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>(<strike>As soon as he’d been able, he’d opened a box hidden deep inside his closet and filled with clothes his mother hadn’t bought him. The memory of the person who’d given them to him and the words “You’re a very handsome boy!” almost had him crying again, but he’d changed into them and finally stopped feeling like he’d vomit each time he looked in the mirror. He’d hidden them again soon after.)</strike></em>
</p><p> </p><p>His mother threw out all the flowers he’d bought, all while screaming at him about throwing money to the trash and how he should spend that time wasted on looking at flowers doing something to improve his grades because <em>you aren’t good enough to pass without studying everyday Nagisa!</em></p><p> </p><p>She had left the mysterious flowers alone.</p><p> </p><p>He’d examined her for the next week, pointing at the flowers and making comments in passing. She’d hum and resume whatever she was doing. It was like his mother couldn’t even notice them. Nagisa had stared suspiciously at them for a whole hour on a Friday but could find no other unusual thing apart from their origins and lack of presence.</p><p> </p><p>Dismay and panic filled had filled him as everything he did only seemed to accelerate the chamomile’s death, and his mother’s mood got progressively worse (more normal) as their petals started to wither. His one shot at some peace and quiet and he’d ruined it. Like always.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>(<strike>Stupid, can’t even take care of some flowers.</strike>)</em>
</p><p> </p><p>And then, one day, out of nowhere, he passed the threshold of his door, dragging his feet and mentally preparing himself, to look up and find a lavender in perfect conditions.</p><p> </p><p>He’d been too shocked to notice his mother approaching him, flinching the moment she touched his arm, and then froze when she only smiled and told him dinner was ready. She’d walked to the table, while he stood there, still staring at the lavender.</p><p> </p><p>He’d felt like crying, and for once not out of sadness.</p><p> </p><p>Once the moment of emotion had passed, he’d swept the apartment and realized not only had the lavenders been replaced, all the sick chamomiles also had. The rational part of Nagisa knew that someone breaking and entering into his house was something alarming, but really he’d felt so grateful the only thing he’d wanted to find the person responsible for was to give them a hug.</p><p> </p><p>A big one, and some thanks, maybe chocolates. And he’d probably be crying.</p><p> </p><p>There also had been a gardening magazine on the table, that he knew for sure neither him nor his mother had bought. His cheeks had flushed a bit pink at the subtle dig at his gardening skills, but he’d been thankful for the pointers.</p><p> </p><p>(<em><strike>It may have reminded him a bit of Karma.)</strike></em></p><p> </p><p>Ever since then, he’d improved a lot. He’d still suffered some blunders, but every time the flowers had been replaced quietly and without a fuzz. He’d jokingly entertained the idea of his luck finally turning around in the form of helping fairies. He’d snorted even, thinking about a tiny fairy carrying such a big and heavy pot. No matter how he tried, he could never catch the culprit. Once he’d left cameras all over the apartment, only to find that during the hour of the illegal entry all of them had filled with static and stopped recording.</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly the fairy idea didn’t seem so outlandish.</p><p> </p><p>Nevertheless. He was grateful to his anonymous helper, making his life just a bit easier. Once even leaving a printed note:</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Use them for tea or oils, you’ll like the effects </strong>
  <strong>😉</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Which, apparently, worked as even more potent whatevers than their flower counterparts. The day Kensaku Ono had finally kicked him into the E-class, he’d given a chamomile tea to his mother. He’d spent hours researching and practicing until it reached perfection. She’d called him useless, bastard, a waste of space and a disgrace of a son, but she’d said it all while calmly sipping her tea and then she’d left. Nagisa had fallen to the ground in relief the moment he heard the door click shut.</p><p> </p><p>Of course magic flowers couldn’t fix everything. His mother still insulted him every chance she got, if he did something bad enough he’d still need to use the anti-inflammatory cream, sometimes he still sobbed in the bathroom with a too tight dress and ruined mascara.</p><p> </p><p>But he had lived with those instances as long as he could remember, so being able to gain just a bit of peace, feel the tiniest most pathetic sense of control he could… there weren’t words to explain it.</p><p> </p><p>As he looks at the lavender pot in front of him, he ponders at all the positive changes that have recently taken place of his life, and wonders for a second if that means perhaps he can-</p><p> </p><p>No. He crushes the thought. Hope is dangerous, no matter how well life has been treating him.</p><p> </p><p>He closes his math notebook and stands up to check up on the flowers around the house. They’ve helped him so much, it’s only fair he treats them gently. He also wonders briefly if Karma with all his botanic interests could possibly know something about magic flowers.</p><p> </p><p>He snickers at the thought; his <strike>best friend</strike> classmate surely would make fun of him if he started spouting such nonsense to him. Even Koro-sensei, with all his might and mysterious origins, doesn’t possess the same supernatural energy that these flowers do. It’s an eerie but not unwelcome feeling Nagisa gets whenever he stares for too long at any of them.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <strike>(Karma exudes the same air.)</strike>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>A ping from his phone has him checking the classroom group chat, and he’s unsurprised to find them bitching about Karma. Again. He snorts as Nakamura suggests a coup, and Maehara asks when had Karma been named ruler. The class dissolves into a debate of if Karma is as strong as he claims or he’s just bluffing. Everyone seems to know a guy who told him another guy who knew a girl who had know a person who Karma had beaten up.</p><p> </p><p>Nagisa bites his lip. It’s a bad idea, a terrible one really. Sugino and Kayano would discourage him from it. Nothing good will come from it.</p><p> </p><p>The memory of a familiar smirk has him tapping and adding a number he’s never really forgotten to the group chat. He might or might not be smirking himself.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <strike>(Today Karma spoke to him again.)</strike>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I LIIIIIIIIIIIVE!!!!</p><p>Fear not, this fic shall not be abandoned until it's finished! Real life hit hard, and my computer was fried, so I lost all the files including the one for this story. Bummed me out but I used the time to organize my thoughts and this story. I've edited and added scenes to previous chapter because now I have more of an idea of where I want to go with this story, as well as I have a better grasp on the events that happened previous to it. Which means 'where is my prescription?' should also get an update this week hopefully. The next chapter for IGYCS is already written and will be delivered Friday this week. Meanwhile, to compensate for this short update I hope you enjoy the new scenes and hints!</p><p>Also, wtf how do you write Nagisa. Can you guess who's showing up next chapter. As a hint take the chapter title...</p><p>Chapter 6: Introducing: The Wicked Witch of the West</p><p>Thanks to all who subscribe, bookmark, give kudos and comment! Take care!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Introducing: The Wicked Witch of the West pt.1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>There's fresh blood in the faculty.</p><p>Karma is thrilled. Until he isn't.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm gonna stop saying 'I'll update this Friday' and instead we'll just have a tacit understanding which we'll never mention in hope that the curse will stop. Hopefully this two parter will be delivered smoothly, hopefully.</p><p>There victim blaming, physical violence and implied sexual abuse. Be safe people.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You stopped visiting.” They hand him the fancy silverware “We briefly thought you died.”</p><p> </p><p>“Did you cry for me?” He smirks while setting the table under their critical gaze.</p><p> </p><p>“The puppet wasn’t set aflame.” He subconsciously rubs his arm, where the needles have drawn his blood. They shrug, then narrow their eyes and point at one corner of the tablecloth that has bunched together “So we ruled it out. Figured you were just being rude.”</p><p> </p><p>The twins turn and go fetch the cake without another word, their shoulders stiff. Karma sniffs the air to confirm his suspicions and smiles. No rotten smell. The twins are doing the equivalent of coddling. They were worried, at least to some degree.</p><p> </p><p>(They also probably thought he’d finally gotten sick of them.)</p><p> </p><p>Karma sighs and makes the compromise to be less vicious during supper. Not soft, because neither of the people about to eat cake are ready for that, and because at the end of the day they can’t stop their underlying need to tear each other apart. Too much hatred in their bodies and no other outlets.</p><p> </p><p>The twins return with a big strawberry cake and Karma doesn’t point out the lack of appetizers or the obvious selection of his favorite flavor. Instead, he sits down and bares his teeth at them when inquiring about poisons, and they sip their cup to smile at him in red.</p><p> </p><p>He doubts anyone else would believe him, but their little tea parties can be soothing at times.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Remor is silent as he closes the door and leaves the house. He thanks all benevolent deities.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, look at what the rats dragged here, too scared to walk to school by yourself today?” He snickers and looks into equally unnerving eyes. Wow. He can <em>kinda </em>see why people get freaked out about his own. “Been waiting for me?”</p><p> </p><p>The other scoffs and stops leaning on the wall.</p><p> </p><p>“You wish.” a twitch on his left hand, a tell “You’re out awfully early Akabane. The world ending?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not today no.” his tone drips derision to let the other know exactly what he thinks of trying to be manipulated by such cheap tricks like misdirection and taunting. Karma isn’t a minion, and he delights in rubbing it in the other’s face “I’ll let you know if the birds say something.”</p><p> </p><p>With that, he starts walking. It takes an extra moment for a second set of footsteps to follow.</p><p> </p><p>“Just stay away from me in school. I don’t want to be seen with a slacker.”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you begging me?” He smirks “The world ending?”</p><p> </p><p>A vein pulses in the other’s forehead and Karma laughs at being able to draw out a genuine reaction. They agree to spar after school in his backyard and part ways. It’s quite recent, but this little arrangement of theirs is proving to be very amusing.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>He’s way too early for school so he decides to take a nap at the bottom of the mountain. Can’t have anyone believing he’d actually straightened out or got intimidated by the octopus into being a proper student. Now that’d just be tragic.</p><p> </p><p>Unfortunately for his hard-earned reputation, he doesn’t stay far away enough from the main path.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re expected at class in five minutes.”</p><p> </p><p>Karma <em>doesn’t </em>jump. Remor lies. He just… startles a bit.</p><p> </p><p>“Do they not teach government agents not to bully defenseless junior high kids?” he grumbles while glaring at Karasuma. The stoic man’s face remains unmoved. Tch. Killjoy.</p><p> </p><p>“A new teacher will be taking charge of your English education. All students must be present for introductions.” his voice is smooth, and Karma finds it just a bit sad that had either of them been anything else than what they were, it could have been reliable and comforting.</p><p> </p><p>“No way you’re hiring someone normal when you made us all sign non-disclosure agreements.” He narrows his eyes and stands up as slowly as he can, making sure not to break eye contact “So what new monsters are you bringing to my class?”</p><p> </p><p>Karasuma remains quiet. Karma itches to hit him.</p><p> </p><p>“No words?” silence “Oh well, guess we’ll find out if we get a bullet in the gut.”</p><p> </p><p>There. The barest twitch of an eyebrow. Why is it that the octopus can provoke this stiff so easily while Karma can only coax out the barest of reactions?</p><p> </p><p>“No harm will befall any of you, I can guarantee it.” He snorts at that and, there, again, an eyebrow twitch. Plus a flexing finger. Touched a nerve? Joy.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s cute, y’know?” He tilts his head and smirks, it’s cruel “That you really believe that.”</p><p> </p><p>He pats the man’s shoulder (aware the other is allowing it) and starts walking up the path, not really in the mood to bother him any further. Karasuma follows behind.</p><p> </p><p>Remor delights in tricking his ears with the sound of chains dragging on the ground.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>There’s a blond woman rubbing herself all over Koro-sensei.</p><p> </p><p>Half the class seems unnerved/irritated by this; the other half is too busy staring at her rack because <em>of course they are</em>. Is Okajima drooling? Karma contains a grimace and gives her some sympathy points because he’s quite sure she’s not as ditzy as she’s making herself look. And to anyone mildly sentient being drooled at by a class of junior high kids and a yellow tentacle monster has to be at least a tiny bit uncomfortable. She seems to have nerves of steel, so bonus points for that.</p><p> </p><p>He wonders if behind that flirty and airheaded exterior she’s pondering the best ways to kill them. He wonders what it says of him he almost smiles in fondness at this young foreign murderer.</p><p> </p><p>Karma is no fool and Irina Jelavic reeks of bloodlust. A black widow has entered stage.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It’s fairly amusing watching the class dance around the giant elephant in the room. Jelavic herself never falters in her act and has no twitches, no spasms, no shows of discomfort at the role she’s playing. Faking attraction can be difficult to some, and their true feelings tend to leak through at some minor points, but here, nothing. Truly a great actor.</p><p> </p><p>(Karma can relate on some degree.)</p><p> </p><p>It’s even more amusing when she immediately shows her true colors the second Koro-sensei disappears to go buy her some Vietnamese coffee (Karma cackles at the thought that maybe she actually wanted that coffee and decided to use the world class threat as a glorified errand boy).</p><p> </p><p>“Um… Miss Irina?” and there goes Isogai, ever the helpful representative willing to talk to the probably dangerous assassin so the rest of them don’t have to stand in awkward silence. What a guy. Maybe he should get him some luck talismans? “Should we head inside… for class?”</p><p> </p><p>The woman doesn’t even bother looking at them as she lights her cigarette “Sure, whatever, knock yourselves out. Teacher needs peace and quiet though, so make it a study hall.”</p><p> </p><p>Everyone flinches, surprised by her total personality flip. Karma wants to whack their heads with a book for being so gullible as to know she is an assassin and still think she was actually that ditzy. Whatever. They actually look intimidated. He holds back a snicker because they already hate him enough, no need to make them think he’s making fun of them (even though he totally is).</p><p> </p><p>“And another thing,” she finally looks around, eyes cold and unconcerned “let’s agree not to call me <em>miss </em>when the octopus isn’t around.”</p><p> </p><p>Karma seriously considers what it means that for his mental health that the assassin English teacher who could care less about them is steadily becoming his favorite. Less killjoy than Karasuma at least.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re definitely not on a first name basis, so drop it.” <em>Such freaking elegance when delivering, Isabelle’s lesbian ass would be swooning</em>. “When he is around, call me Miss Jelavic.”</p><p> </p><p>Then again, Karma is more at ease with rough people. Hostile people who bare their teeth and let you know from the get-go not to mess with them. He also prefers adults who state their business and then leave him alone, so she’s already less overbearing than the octopus and infinitely more fun than Karasuma. He bets her reactions are going to be so much better. As a matter of fact, why not try it out right now?</p><p> </p><p>“Heh,” he snorts and ignores the incredulous looks around him, saying in what he alone knows to be something approaching fond “so what’s you game Miss Jelabitch?”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Don’t disappoint Jelavic. Come on, pull out your gun! That’d be fun! Pull it out!</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Sadly, no gun comes out, but she does rage and scream that no nicknames so it’s not too much of a letdown. The others are silently pleading with their eyes he leaves her alone but what do they know? They’re scared of her and he isn’t. And contrary to popular belief he’s quite liking the arrogant attitude. He can’t pinpoint why exactly, but she’s fun and he’s bored, and no further motivation needs to be provided. If a government agent weren’t near maybe they could get along.</p><p> </p><p>“We got ourselves a real pro here.” he’s curious how she’ll respond to ribbing, pathetic like the octopus or impassive like Karasuma? “Just a word of warning, you’re not gonna kill the octopus without help.”</p><p> </p><p>He means it. Whether she heeds the warning or goes through humiliation like him is now up to her.</p><p> </p><p>As expected, she scoffs “Please sweetheart, you’re a bunch of saplings. Adults have their own way of doing things, take note.”</p><p> </p><p>Oh, everyone is going to <em>hate </em>her. Karma mentally cackles and rubs his hands. Jelavic is a godsend in this land of nice people with straight morals (yes, even the mass murdering octopus falls into that category, how disappointing) and he’s going to give her <em>so much stuff </em>just so that she can stay and keep amusing him.</p><p> </p><p>“Speaking of which,” she turns around, her eyes searching until she finds her target “you’re Nagisa Shiota right?”</p><p> </p><p>Karma calms a bit down from his adrenaline and dopamine high and examines them both. She <em>is </em>a pro, so has she perhaps noticed Nagisa’s excessive amounts of bloodlust already? Does she see him as a possible threat? Will she try to sway him to her side or eliminate him?</p><p> </p><p>She approaches him and Karma’s grin turns just a tad sharper. As much as he likes her, the little snake-mouse is somewhat under his protection so if she tries something dangerous he’ll need to warn her off. First warning discount, as a bonus because he enjoys her presence.</p><p> </p><p>She grabs Nagisa’s face and kisses him.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <strike>“He just…” Adelaida shudders, eyes glassy and nails scratching against her already bloody wrists “grabbed me. Just like that. I always -I always think- what did I do? What made him do it? What could I have done different so that he didn’t do it. Because it had to be my fault. It had to be. I triggered him.”</strike>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Kayano screams and <strike>the monster</strike> the woman doesn’t flinch. She just continues pressing her lips against his, slithering tongue all against Nagisa’s mouth and making <em>noises</em> and Nagisa is just frozen, a vague look of shock on his face (oh god the horror hasn’t settled in how will his face look when it does, oh god Adelaida and Demian and he doesn’t want Nagisa to look like that) and trying to shove her off but she <em>doesn’t budge, and he must be suffocating and no one is doing anything why is no one doing anything why are they all just looking-</em></p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <strike>“You’re my little bitch, aren’t you Fran?” the voice is so fond and soft, and he hates it because that’s just another way Edgar is cruel. By messing with his head and making it seem like they’re a couple and not, not, not <em>this</em>. Whatever this is. “You’ll do whatever I tell you to. So obedient.”</strike>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Remor cackles and he’s shivering but above all he hears the sound of his composure breaking into a tiny million pieces and mocking him for thinking he could keep up the farce.</p><p> </p><p><strong>KARMA SEES RED</strong>.</p><p> </p><p>It’s not elegant, or exciting, or beautiful the way some moron could try to describe later on the sheer violence he feels. It’s not empowering, doesn’t make him feel superior, it brings him no satisfaction. There’s not room in his head for anything else than rage. He’s furious.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>He’s scared.</strike>
</p><p> </p><p>There’s just red in his eyes and in his hands and he’s not even sure if it’s an illusion from Remor or actual blood marring his fists as he hits her face, her arms, her chest. Anything he can reach to pry her off Nagisa. She reaches for something at her back, but he punches, and kicks and they roll on the ground and she’s scratching and biting, and her nails reach for his eyes and there’s no elegance to it because he aims to kill, and she aims to survive and both of them are practiced enough that it’s going to take a while.</p><p> </p><p>(Just like thought, she’s a fighter too.)</p><p> </p><p>(So <em>why?</em>)</p><p> </p><p>And suddenly there are more hands on him, and <strike>he</strike> <strike>panics</strike> elbows as he can but they’re hitting him too and he’s at a disadvantage but what does that matter he can bite and scratch too. There’s red everywhere and some must be dripping from him but who the fuck cares? He’s going to kill her, and three more men aren’t going to stop him. There’s something cold against his head and dammit she must have taken her gun out while she was distracted but he can use Grunt #1 as a shield to buy time and swallow the Duotine in his pocket-</p><p> </p><p>“Put the gun down and let him go!”</p><p> </p><p>It’s like the voice comes from another world. Another reality. From a place not filled with violence and the intent to kill and as such Karma deems it unimportant so he keeps struggling in Grunt’s #2 loving embrace as he growls and bares his teeth, every bit the feral animal the world has spent his entire life saying he is.</p><p> </p><p>“Miss Jelavic if you don’t put the gun down the Ministry of Defense will consider it a violation of your contract and give permission to kill on sight!”</p><p> </p><p>The cold feeling on his head fades and he should care, he really should, but everything is red, and someone is still grabbing him, so he struggles, and they tighten their grip, and he struggles harder as he tries to bite them.</p><p> </p><p>“Now let the boy go.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah right, you’ve seen him? The moment my men release him he’ll go for my throat.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll take care of him. <em>You </em>should head to the teacher’s lounge and prepare a good explanation as to why one of my students was being beaten to death.”</p><p> </p><p>“The little brat started-”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Go</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>The hands let him go and by now he’s pieced enough of his self-composure back together to not immediately lash off at the woman in front of him. She’s black and blue in several places, lip big and swollen, and he’s fucking proud he managed to punch that face she’s clearly so proud of. She now looks less like a pretty femme fatale and more like the ugly kind of beast she is. More like that hideous violent thing that resides in both of them.</p><p> </p><p>Her eyes promise him murder and he makes sure to grin at her with all his bloody teeth. It’s a promise. He gleefully accepts with his eyes and she turns around, scoffing as she walks past Karasuma with all the grace she can muster. A pact to draw blood once no one is watching.</p><p> </p><p>And that?</p><p> </p><p>That feels <em>right.</em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Shorter than I'd like but the two parter is coming in the week. I actually really like Irina and plan to explore her character in this work but there's just no way Karma would be chill with Irina forcefully kissing a minor. Much less Nagisa. That's all for today, it's late and I am running on 2 hours of sleep.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If anyone feels inspired or intrigued by the concept feel free to use it. I'm just doing this bc I'm pretty sure no one else's monkey brain is gonna come up with it. Just send me the link so I can enjoy the content too!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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